Eric Yorkie, The Van Helsing of Forks
by duskwatcher2153
Summary: "My name is Eric Yorkie and I possess knowledge that will change the world as we know it: Edward Cullen is a VAMPIRE!" This is Eric's POV of the events of Book 1 and remarkably, it stays within canon. A humorous look at Twilight from the eyes of Forks' most lovable geek.
1. Chap 1 Where My Suspicions Are Aroused

A/N I have to thank Heather for encouraging me to post this and, besides being a beta, being an all around supporter. She's pretty special. I'd also like to thank Mac who freely gave me her time and advice and Erin, who sealed the deal for me.

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Vampires have come to Forks, and only one person can possibly stop them. That would be me. I am Eric Yorkie, the Van Helsing of Forks. The True Adventures of a Vampire Hunter.

_Vampires, by their nature, are creatures of night. They shy away from attention, trying to exist in the shadows of society. So, just like with serial killers, don't look for the loud, aggressive bully. It's the quiet ones, the ones everybody always describes as 'nice' and 'kept to themselves' that are the dangerous ones._ – From _The Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

The red lights of the ambulance pull away while the rest of the student body mills around like sheep. Bella Swan is in that ambulance, along with Tyler Crowley and Edward freaking Cullen, or should I say _freaky _Edward Cullen?

It had to be him that saved her, of course. Mr. Sears Catalog model. He's good looking enough to be one, all gelled hair and cheekbones that small dogs could sleep on. He's certainly as stiff as one. He'll sit in class for a whole freaking period and not move or cough or pick his nose once. I've watched him in Biology. I've seen corpses more animated than him. And I'm not just making that up. My dad runs Yorkie Funeral Home. I've seen plenty of stiffs. Just not that many that walk around Forks High School.

Angela Weber comes up to me. She's in her Clark Kent mode, all thick glasses and hair pulled up. I've seen her, though, in gym class when she's in those shorts, and she has a bod made for love. She wants me, she wants me bad. But I've been playing it cool, hard to get. A man has to keep his options open, so I act like it's no big deal when she comes up to me. She's got that yellow sweater on that shows off her boobs real well, and between that and the thoughts about the shorts, I have an instant woodie, so I put my hands in my pockets for camouflage and let the camera swing on its strap around my neck.

"You should take some pictures of the parking lot. You know, for evidence," she says.

"Well, yeah, I was doing that." Actually, I wasn't, but it's a good idea. I'd just been taking pictures of Tyler's van where it was smashed in, thinking I could use it in part of the storyboard I am making up. I'm designing a video game, and it's going to be so rad. I have a lot of the character studies completed and the storyboard is almost done. It's based on that Van Helsing movie with Hugh Jackman and Kate Beckinsale. Except there's a lot of girls running around in leather corsets, not just one, and the vampire girls all run around nude, like the succubi in that vampire movie with Keanu Reeves.

"Alright, people," Mr. Pederson calls to the kids clumped into their cliques. "Everybody back to class. The excitement's over." There's a bunch of collective groaning and grumbling, but gradually most of the kids drift back up the stairs to the school building. "That means you too, Mr. Yorkie."

I grab the camera hanging around my neck and start pointing it. "Getting some pictures for the school paper," I tell him. It's for just this reason I joined the school paper. It's like a free pass to wander around the halls when you're supposed to be in class.

"Make sure it's for an article on safe driving habits," Mr. Pederson instructs, before turning away.

"You bet," I say while mentally rolling my eyes. He is such a tool. I walk around the parking lot, clicking the shutter, getting a few shots of the ice patches and puddles. The gasoline makes interesting swirls on the water. I sneak in a few more shots of the van before the tow truck takes it away.

I go back to the computer lab, load the pictures and start flipping through them. I have a couple that I took right before the accident, when I was getting shots of the school sign for the yearbook. There's a really cool sequence I got of Tyler's van rounding the corner coming in off the street. You can see, in the corner of the next shot, Bella standing by her truck, totally oblivious to the impending doom that is skidding towards her.

The next one would be a really good one if it wasn't all blurry. Edward Cullen is like this streak at the back of her truck. I take another look and realize he's the only thing that's blurry. I check the setting on my camera−yeah, it was at 1/500. You can take sports photos at that setting, so how the hell did he get so blurry?

I take a look back at the earlier photos and realize Edward isn't there with Bella like he claimed. It isn't until I go back to my school sign shot that I see he is standing on the _other side of the parking lot_. It's nearly impossible for him to make that distance so quickly.

Unbelieving, I flip back through the pictures. Yeah, there's no mistake. In the approximate two seconds it takes Tyler's van to come skidding around the corner, Cullen has moved fifty yards. That's fast. That's really fast. Like why isn't he on the track and field team?

In fact, I want to ask him that when I see him in the hall when he finally shows up back in school. I want to interview him as a hero for the school paper but he turns me down.

"Come on," I say, trying to persuade him. "People want to know. You're a hero."

"No. No, I'm not, and no, I won't be interviewed for the paper." He's glaring at me, all dark and brooding, like some old-time troubled movie star. I can't see the appeal, but the girls at school are all gaga over him. I can see Jessica and Lauren over at their lockers looking at me and him. They're practically salivating. Boy, if he'd just show a little interest in the ladies, he'd be swamped with more pussy than he could handle. I'd be his best friend just for his cast-offs.

"Eddie, it's all good. It's just a couple questions…" I trail off because he's staring at me like he wants to bite my head off. Okay, maybe he doesn't like Eddie.

"Leave it, Yorkie," he hisses at me and turns away.

Well, that's pretty fucked up. The article would be much better if I could get some quotes, but I'll write it without him if I have to.

"I wish you wouldn't write it at all," he says over his shoulder before striding down the hall. I hadn't even said anything.

George Yee, the assistant editor of the school paper, comes up beside me with his hands on his hips. "Guess he shut _you _down, eh, Dorkie?" I hate that nickname.

"Shut up, Yee," I snap at him, watching Edward's back.

But I'm a journalist, and sometimes you have to be persistent, so two days go by before I see my next opportunity. I sidle up to Cullen while he's at his locker. He's got it open, and with all the noise in the hall, I don't even know how he knows it's me, but from behind the open door of the locker, I hear his voice. "What is it now, Yorkie?"

He closes the locker, and I'm staring at him. I'd never spent a lot of time with Edward Cullen; he's entirely too 'I'm such a golden boy' to be anyone's friend, and his nickname when he's not listening is 'Sullen Cullen'. But as he stares at me, I realize his eyes are yellow. Deep yellow, like a cat or a wild animal. You don't see that in humans. "Listen," I say, "I can appreciate that you don't want a fuss made but−"

His expression suddenly changes, going from his habitual scowl to smiling friendliness. It surprises me so much, I forget what I'm going to say. His smile is, well, hypnotic. Time slows down and I feel like a rabbit mesmerized by the unblinking stare of a hawk; I can't even move, unless he tells me to. "Eric," he says, putting a hand on my shoulder, "you don't want to write about me."

Now I'm confused, because I remember very much wanting to write about him. But as he says it, it's like it just now occurs to me. "I don't?" I ask, confused.

"No, you don't," he says, staring into my eyes.

"I don't," I say. I can't believe I am agreeing with him, but somehow when he says it like that, it makes perfect sense. Of course, I don't.

"You'll write an article on safe driving." Inexplicably, I am nodding with him, watching his yellow eyes because they're all I can see. The school corridor has dropped away; nothing exists but Edward Cullen's eyes and his mesmerizing voice telling me what I need to do.

"Safe driving. That's a great idea," I say, nodding my head, while inside me a little voice is yelling, _What the fuck? _

"You're going to forget I−" He's interrupted because Mike Newton and Ben Cheney are horsing around in the hall, and they slam into him and nearly knock me off my feet, but Edward doesn't move at all. Mike literally bounces off Edward, ricochets into me, throwing me back against the lockers, and falls at my feet.

I'm shaking my head, feeling like I just came up from underwater, and Edward glares at Ben, who is standing in the middle of the hall, his books at his feet. People are veering to go around him.

"Watch where you're going," the effervescent Mr. Cullen snarls.

His sister, Alice (and she's another weird one), comes up and puts a hand on his arm. "Come on, Edward, leave them be." They walk away and I can hear her when she tells him, "It wasn't going to work, anyway."

What wasn't going to work? What just happened? Why am I feeling this sudden urge to write about safe driving?

As Edward walks down the hall, Ben wiggles his fingers behind his back, like 'Ooo, so scary', while Mike gets to his feet. The mocking makes Mike laugh, and he punches Ben's shoulder. They're just about ready to start again when I hiss at them to cut it out. They then start in on me, but I shake them off, and after telling them what douche bags they are, we make plans to hit the new Russell Crowe movie this evening. I head out to Algebra, still trying to figure out what just happened with Cullen.

In Advanced Algebra, I sit behind Bella Swan. She looks relatively unscathed from the accident, and is shaking off anybody who tries to talk to her about it. I don't know whether I believe her when she says she's from Phoenix. People there are supposed to be tan, right? She is almost as pale as the Cullens, and although Forks is the rainiest place in the US, she makes the rest of us look like Miami beach bunnies. But still she is nice enough, if a little shy. Mike's already been salivating over her, but he salivates over anybody with a cup size bigger than double A. That boy has a porn collection that would put Hugh Hefner to shame.

If I can't get Cullen to talk to me, maybe I can use Bella's point of view for my article. "Hey, Bella," I say, tapping her on the back as the other students are finding seats.

She looks at me over her shoulder. "What?"

"I want to write an article about the Tyler's van thing out in the parking lot."

"Why're you talking to me? I was just standing there."

I shrug. "I wanted to interview Edward, but he ain't talking."

She turns back to the front of the room. "Well, you're not the only one he's not talking to."

"So, I can interview you?"

She shakes her head. "No, really, Eric. I don't want to be in the paper."

"Geez, Bella." This does not bode well for my journalism career. "Don't you want people to know how he saved you?"

She looks back at me, and her expression is some mix of sad and mad. "I don't think he meant to save me."

"What do you mean? He flew across that parking lot like Jesse Owens."

Her eyes suddenly become guarded. "I don't know what you're talking about." Color starts to rise in her cheeks. It's like watching one of those stop-action sequences where a flower goes from bud to bloom in ten seconds.

"Oh, come on. You must have seen−"

"Leave it, Eric," she hisses and pointedly turns away. Why is everybody telling me this?

Mr. Varner calls the class to order, and Bella studiously avoids talking to me the rest of the class. She even bolts from the room afterwards so I don't have a chance to talk to her. I wind up interviewing Tyler Crowley for the newspaper article, but all he wants to talk about is how it wasn't his fault and how we never get ice in Forks, yada yada. Mr. Agney, the newspaper faculty advisor, makes me put in a bunch of stuff in there on how to drive on ice and snow, so it does, in fact, turn into an article on how to drive safely.

But my suspicions have been roused now. Edward Cullen doesn't want to talk about miraculous feats of derring-do. Nobody is that self-effacing, are they? Really, what's his deal? And why is Bella Swan covering for him?

Over the next few weeks, I take to watching Edward closely. But he's careful, he's very careful. He has taken to totally ignoring Bella in Biology, but sitting behind them, it's so obvious that they're painfully aware of the other's presence. They studiously avoid looking at or touching each other. You might think they hate each other, except for the fact that they watch each other intensely when they think the other person isn't looking. I wonder if there might not be some kind of a secret relationship there.

The spring dance is coming; it's a Sadie Hawkins type where it's ladies choice. Tyler and Mike are making bets as to who Bella will ask, but I think they're both full of shit. We finally agree to chip in ten bucks apiece, with Bella's date taking the money. I'm pretty sure Bella's not the dancing type, but I would love to show up Mike and Tyler, so I agree to the pot. Secretly, I'm thinking there's no rule against asking Bella to ask me, but apparently, I'm not the only one this particular loophole has occurred to, as I hear Mike talking to Bella about the dance. I pounce on him later.

"That goes against our bet, you know," I complain, sitting down next to him on the picnic table in the school courtyard.

"Fuck, Yorkie. What are you talking about?" he says, brushing me off.

"Asking Bella to ask you," I answer. "Telling her you'd cancel Jess to go with her. Not fair."

"Well, she blew me off," Mike says, looking around at the other kids. Probably looking for Jessica. "That's women for ya. They stick together, well, like…stickers."

"Did she say why?"

"Some BS about going to Seattle. I hope she's not taking that truck. It'd probably shake itself to pieces on the highway." The period bell rings and he jumps off the bench.

"Yeah, well, it's a step up from having to drive your mother's minivan," I call to his back.

He flips me the bird as he heads back indoors. Snickering, I head off to my locker.

My next class is gym. As luck would have it, it's volleyball. I hate gym. The teacher, Mr. Clapp, is like some mutant reject from the NFL, all muscle, no brains. He wears the whistle around his neck like it's a Medal of Honor. Really, I've seen him in town on Saturdays, and he is still wearing the same damn whistle. I want to yell at him, 'Hey doucheface! It's Saturday. There're no kids to torture. Get rid of the damn whistle'.

The only thing he cares about is the Forks football team. One day last fall I was headed to the nurse's office because of another bloody nose. As I rounded the corner quickly, Mr. Clapp was _on his knees_ begging Emmett Cullen to join the football team. For a moment there, I thought he was going to blow Emmett, but he got up, all embarrassed-like, as I passed them, muttering about the greater good. Emmett just smiled at me and shrugged as if to say, 'Whaddya gonna do?'

I don't know why Emmett doesn't join the football team. He's built like a professional wrestler. Usually guys with hardbodies like that can't wait to show them off. Not Emmett. But then, of course, he doesn't have to. He's hooked up with the freshest piece of meat to hit high school since Cindy Crawford started modeling: Rosalie Hale.

Rosalie is so fine, it should be criminal. You can hear the IQ dropping of the guys she passes in the halls as they sprout woodies. Really, it's like a military salute; Rosalie walks by, high school boys' dicks stand up in honor. She has this pink shirt she wears sometimes; it's kind of low-cut and you can just catch a glimpse of the paradise of those tits. Makes me wanna holler, um hmm.

All of the Cullens and the Hales live together with their foster parents, a situation weird enough that even usually clueless people of Forks comment on it. There's a big debate as to whether these so-called foster kids are boinking each other at home, right under the noses of Dr. and Mrs. Cullen. My thought is _Fuck Yeah!_ If Emmett isn't tapping that, then I'm turning in my Man Card because that would be too fucking shameful.

And a terrible waste of natural resources.

Back at gym and I'm standing next to another member of the freak squad, Jasper Hale. If Edward is all dark and brooding, Jasper is all light and deadly. He reminds me of an albino rattlesnake. He is all tightly coiled, and when you're next to him, you get the feeling like he's barely holding on, like if you made the wrong move, he would just turn around and Snap! You'd be dead. Tyler hates him because of some unknown slight that happened last year. Tyler says Jasper looks like he's always holding back some massive bowel movement, like he's trying really hard to keep all his shit inside.

Anyway, a bunch of us are duffing the volleyball around, back and forth across the net, waiting for class to start. Jasper is standing next to me, and I swear every fucking shot the guy hits is like perfectly controlled. I can see him planning the shots when the ball gets over to him, and he's even planning the fucking mistakes, like sending the ball four inches to the left of center so Trevor has to move a step before taking the set up. It's like he has to _try_ not to be perfect.

But it's what happens next that gets me. The ball goes sailing towards Jasper just as I hear his phone beep. Now, you're not supposed to carry cell phones in gym that's one of Mr. Clapp's big rules but Jasper whips it out to check the screen. The ball comes screaming at him, he just puts a hand out, and _without even looking, _hits it sailing across the net to hit the floor just on the inside corner. I mean, this guy should be in the goddamn Olympics because that is just crazy.

Mr. Clapp catches a glimpse of Jasper, cell phone in hand, and of course, blows that mighty whistle. "Hale! Get over here!" he yells from the sidelines.

Jasper sticks his phone in his pocket and trots over to where Mr. Clapp is turning a bright red, meaning he's all steamed up over one of his precious rules being violated. I'm sure Hale is going to get it good and will probably spend the rest of the class doing laps. I watch as Clapp demands the phone, and Jasper reaches in his pocket to get it. I turn my head away just in time as Jasper looks around, so he doesn't catch me watching. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jasper bringing his cell phone out of his pocket and placing it in Clapp's outstretched hand. But he doesn't let go if it; instead he starts looking intently into the gym teacher's eyes and murmuring something. Clapp goes from all tensed up to relaxed in like zero seconds. He drops his hand and leans a shoulder against the gym wall, all informal and friendly-like. Jasper says something, and the gym teacher throws back his head and laughs, just like a real person. The only laugh I've ever heard from Clapp was a sadistic chuckle, so this is like magic.

Magic. There is something going on that is distinctly unnatural, and I'm talking more than just some foster kids boffing each other. I'm beginning to think it's more than just Edward Cullen. It's the whole goddamn family.

Mike has struck out with Bella, so it's my turn to try. I wait for her by her truck when school lets out. She shuts me down quicker than a geek with a computer virus, so I head back to the school. I catch Tyler's eye across the parking lot, and he raises his eyebrows at me. I shake my head, making a face. _Nope, another strike out. _

I get home from school, and my mother is in the kitchen. She's from Japan, very old country, if you know what I mean. She gives me milk and cookies, for chrissakes, because she has some outdated notion that it's what American mothers do. I'd much rather have Doritos and a Dr. Pepper, but, noooo, we do it old school. So after a snack, I head upstairs to my room. I better get started on that history project. We're studying the Middle Ages. Inquisition. Black Plague. Hundred Years War. Good times, people, good times.

I open the door to my room, and my heart drops into my shoes. My younger brother, Danny, is sitting on the floor with all my drawing pads and the game designs I've been working on for weeks scattered around him. It's all the stuff I've been working on for the video game about Van Helsing that's been occupying every moment of my spare time. I feel sick when I see the magic marker lines all over my character drawings.

"Danny! Goddamn it!" I throw my knapsack on the bed and snatch the marker out of his hand. He looks at me like a wounded puppy. Danny is only five years younger than me, but right now it seems like a lot more than that. He's got Down Syndrome, so he attends a special school in Bogachiel. "Mom!" I yell. "Danny's in my room!"

"Oh, Jesus," I murmur as I pull all the scattered pictures together. Danny'd gotten into my whole portfolio of stuff and it's everywhere. "Damn it, Danny! How many times do I have to tell you! Leave my stuff alone!"

Danny's bottom lip starts to stick out, and he looks like he's going to cry, but I don't fucking care. I worked weeks on some of this stuff. Picking up more papers, some of them crumpled and torn, I yell again. "MOM!"

She appears around the corner and leads Danny away, who's starting to sniffle and cry. I feel like crying, too. I look at the pictures of the succubi I had drawn. There are big black lines drawn across them. Jesus, I worked on those heaving bosoms for hours.

I pick up the picture of the vampire leader. It's got a big rip in the corner. Well, I hadn't liked this one anyway. I'd made his eyes golden, and it was just not working. He'd looked too human; I mean, a vampire king should be pretty awesome looking, right?

I go to put the picture down, and it's, like, stuck to my hand. Something about it is tickling in my mind, scratching at me. I look at it again. It reminds me of somebody, but I can't say who. I go to put it down again, but once more, my hand stops before completing the action. I'd been thinking of Pierce Brosnan when I'd drawn it, not that it looks like him−I'm not that good−but that kind of dark handsomeness. I stare at those yellow eyes for a moment longer, trying to think what there is about it that seems suddenly familiar.

It's not going to come to me, so with a sigh, I toss it with the rest of the stuff back in my portfolio. I have homework to do.

That night there's a big thunderstorm. I'm lying in bed, having been woken by the thunder, and I watch the intermittent lightning illuminate the room. After an especially loud clap, the door to my room is flung open. I see my brother's silhouette in the doorway.

"Eric? Eric?" It's Danny. "I'm scared. Can I sleep in here with you?"

He has never liked thunderstorms. "Sure," I say resignedly. I slide over and hold the covers up for him as he crawls into the bed next to me.

"Thanks, Eric," he says as he snuggles up. He smells like Ivory Soap.

"Just don't wet the bed," I admonish him.

"I won't. I promise," he tells me.

Two minutes later, he's fast asleep, and I'm lying on the edge of the bed trying not to fall off. I listen as the occasional growl of thunder moves further and further away. Gradually, I relax and am almost asleep, when suddenly I bolt upright. If I were a cartoon, I'd have a light bulb over my head.

The vampire king. Yellow eyes. Edward Cullen.

_Edward Cullen is a vampire._

_

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_

DUN dun dun.

More to come soon.


	2. Chapter 2 Where I Begin My Stalking

_A/N The response to this piece of silliness has been overwhelming. Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing._

_Special thanks to Heather (Happy Birthday, girl) and Mac. Love also to bookjunkie, MKatyCee and Tydestra for pre-reading. Give them the credit for the good stuff, I'll take the blame for the mistakes, probably made during the last minute tinkering. _

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_There are many different species of vampires, each with different strengths and abilities. Before engaging a vampire, be sure to carefully appraise the type you are dealing with. Assess what weaknesses they may have. It may save your life. Or at least your reputation in school_. – From _The Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

The next morning, I am sure of my nighttime revelation. Edward Cullen is a vampire. The good looks, the speed, even the article on safe driving−it all starts to make sense. But what about the daytime? He walks around school. Vampires sleep during the day. In coffins or in dirt. Maybe he's some kind of daywalker, like Blade. That could explain it.

I start to follow this thought a little further. If he's a vampire, then what about his family? I remember Jasper's magic with Coach Clapp, and I know it then. All of them. All of his so-called brothers and sisters. They're not foster kids! They're his goddamn coven!

This is big. This is huge. There's a coven of vampires, and they're living _right here in Forks. _Suddenly my face twists in horrified comprehension. Dr. Cullen works at the hospital…where the _blood bank _is! Of course, he's probably been stealing blood and keeping them all alive. That's why he poses as a doctor. I am aghast with the monstrosity of it all. They're always talking about the need for blood drives. Now I know why! Oh, will their perfidy know no bounds?

But as I sit over my Cheerios, I start to settle down. You can't just go around pointing fingers at some pale creep and accusing him of being a vampire. _No, Eric, my boy_, I tell myself, _you are going to have to play it smart. You must gather evidence, like the photographs you took of the van accident, but even better. Then you can spring it on them all at once, and gather the townspeople and maybe stake the bastards._

I think about driving a stake into Edward's chest, what with blood spurting out and everything, and it kinda grosses me out. Maybe I shouldn't be the one to do that, actually. Maybe we could just lock them up instead. We may need to call in the experts. I'll hit the internet after school, for sure. But for now, how to protect myself during the day?

"Eric! What you doing in my refrigerator?" My mom comes around the corner. She speaks English well, but she still has a strong accent. Like I said, old country.

I'm bent over, my head inside the damn thing. "I'm trying to find something," I say, rummaging through the vegetable drawers.

"You want food? I already made you lunch."

"No, Mom, I just need−ah, here it is!" I hold up a plastic bag triumphantly. "Garlic."

"What you want garlic for?" she asks, her hands on her hips.

It occurs to me a small lie might be in order. "Home economics class. I, uh, have to bring in some garlic." There's not much, only a couple of heads in the bag. "Do you have any more?" I ask Mom.

A few minutes later, I am running to the bus stop with the plastic bag of garlic in my backpack. I also have a jar of minced garlic that my mother found in the pantry.

As I ride the bus to school, I break off a couple of cloves and, after a moment of indecision, stuff them in my shirt pocket. The fresh stuff barely has an odor to it, so I open the jar of minced garlic and take a sniff. Whoa, that stuff is potent. But it's for a cause, right? I dab some around my neck, hoping it will do the trick. It dries sticky, and the little bits of garlic chafe under my collar.

My first class is History with Mr. Devin. Emmett is in this class with me, two seats over. He's not here yet, and the rest of the students are milling around. I walk the long way around the edge of the classroom and surreptitiously drop a couple cloves of garlic on the seat that Emmett uses. I take my seat behind Lauren Mallory and start pulling my books out. I'm snickering because I can't wait to see how the big guy will deal with this.

Lauren turns to me with a face that could curdle milk. "Yorkie! What is that smell?" she demands.

I scope out the classroom. "Shhhh. It's protection," I whisper.

"Protection against what? Having to breathe?"

Mr. Devin enters the classroom and sets his books on his desk. "Come on, people. Take your seats."

Lauren immediately raises her hand. "Mr. Devin, I need to move my seat." She glances back at me. "I can't sit here."

"I'm afraid not, Miss Mallory," he says as he turns to the board and starts writing.

Lauren huffs in her seat just as Emmett enters the classroom. I stick my nose in my book and watch him over the edge of the book. He walks to his seat and notices the garlic._ Great_, I think. _I wonder if he'll go up in smoke or melt into a puddle of goo. _I am laughing behind the book, waiting for _something_ to happen.

Instead, he picks up a garlic clove in those big meaty fingers and frowns as he looks at it. He looks around, but no one else is watching him, and I duck my head quickly behind my book. He sweeps the cloves on to the floor, and with the side of his foot, kicks them to the wall of the classroom. He takes his seat, pulls out his cell phone and starts texting.

Scratch that plan.

After class is over, we all file out. I'm just at the classroom door when I hear Emmett's voice behind and above me. "Geez, Yorkie, you stink," he says in that big, deep voice. I turn around, and he's standing right next to me. "You smell like Italian food," he says with a distinctly evil smile. "Yum."

I've never made it to English class so fast.

At lunchtime, I get to the cafeteria late because my locker jammed and I am just sitting down with Mike and Ben when I notice Bella Swan and Edward Cullen are sitting together at a table by themselves. They're both kind of leaning forward, talking intensely, their heads bowed together. Cullen is playing with a cap or something.

"When did they start sitting together?" I ask, ripping open my milk carton.

Ben shrugs his shoulder, but Mike answers. "Just now," he says unhappily.

I look over at the other four Cullens. Now that I can see it, I notice they play a bit with their food, but none of them ever actually eat anything. Of course, now that I know what their actual food source is, it makes perfect sense. I sneak another glimpse over my shoulder at Bella and Edward. Time is running out. I'm sure right now he is seducing her, planning to bring her back to his vampire lair and…and…

"Listen, you guys. Did you ever think there was anything weird about the Cullens?" I ask.

They both look at me like I have two heads. "Okay," I concede. "But I mean like really weird?"

Mike snickers. "You mean weirder than boinking your sister?"

"Hey, man," Ben says. "If it was your sister, maybe." I have an older sister, Jennifer, who goes to the community college. Ben has the hots for her. I don't know why. Maybe he just likes stuck-up, bossy bitches.

"Don't be gross," I say.

"Hey, we should get together tonight," Mike says, hijacking the conversation. "I've got the new Starcraft."

"I can't." Ben throws the rest of his sandwich down in disgust. "I have to go to my cousin's baptism tonight."

"That sucks," Mike says. But it starts the wheels turning. Baptism. Water. Holy water. Vampires hate holy water. They hate anything sacred, but it's not like I'm going to run across the Holy Grail.

"Where's the baptism?" I ask.

Ben and Mike exchange a puzzled look. "First Federal."

I turn to Ben. "Can you give me a ride to Saint Margaret's after school?"

"Sure. Why do you need to go to Saint Margaret's?"

"Homework. History." I am going to keep the secret under my hat just a bit longer.

"He's going to turn into a nun," Mike jokes.

"Celibacy," Ben intones. "When you're too ugly to fuck."

I throw my balled up paper at them. "You guys are a laugh riot."

After school Ben takes me to Saint Margaret's. I'm in luck. When I open the door, the church is deserted, and the basin of holy water is sitting unattended in the middle of the entry room. I suddenly realize I have nothing to carry it in. I dig around in my pockets, but the only thing I have is a plastic container of Tic Tacs. I shake out the last six or so on my tongue, and they give me an instant sinus headache. Once the container is empty, I dunk it in the basin and wait until no more bubbles come out. I carefully flip the top back on and run out to where Ben is waiting for me.

"What's that?" Ben asks as I climb into the front seat holding the Tic Tac container upright.

"Holy water."

"Holy water?" he asks. "God, glad I'm not in your class."

On Friday, very carefully, I bring the holy water to school with me. I have to figure out who I'm going to spring it on. But almost immediately opportunity presents itself. Alice Cullen is in front of her locker as I enter school and walk down the hallway.

Sneakily, I fish the Tic Tac container out of my pocket. It looks like half of the water has leaked out somehow. Do I just pour the rest on her head or what? I decide to go with the 'or what'. I pour some into my hand and throw the palmful of water at her back. I expect great things, but not what happens next. Instantly she turns around, gasping. "What the h-"

Jasper literally appears out of nowhere. "What is it?"

I'm standing there with the Tic Tac container in my hand. Alice scowls at me. "He threw something at me."

Jasper looks at me with murder in his eyes. I'm dead. I know it. "He did, did he?" he asks redundantly.

"I..I.." is all I manage to get out before he snatches the container out of my hand. He looks at it and then pours the remaining holy water into his hand. Nothing happens.

"What the hell are you doing, Yorkie?" Jasper asks, glaring at me. "Whatever it is, stop it."

I turn around, having absolutely no words at my disposal, and have gone two steps when Jasper shouts "Hey."

I turn around with one hand covering my neck, knowing it will never be enough protection but unable to stop myself.

"Here you go," Jasper says, tossing me the empty Tic Tac container.

"Uh, thanks," I say, like the overwhelmingly suave person that I am. I have gone another two steps before George sees me in the hall. "Hey, Dorkie, what happened to you?" he says pointing to my pants.

That's where the other half of the holy water went. It must have leaked in my pocket on the bus, and I now have a big wet stain on my pants, just to the left of the crotch. It looks like I wet myself.

I walk to my first class, holding my books in front of me while the circle of holy water dries on my pants. FML.

Proving the Cullens are vampires is going to be harder than I thought.

* * *

Eric, Eric, Eric...


	3. Chapter 3 Where I Gather Information

_A/N My heartfelt thanks to Mac and Heather for trying, at least, to whip me into shape. Kisses and hugs also to Erin, Katy and Tydestra._

_Let's dedicate this one to all the Ralph Kramdens of the world whose unfailing optimism-that the next big plan will finally be the one that works-is surely a sign of grace._

* * *

_Vampires are nothing if not deceitful. They can be incredibly adept at covering their kills. Use all possible modes of research available when hunting vampires, even pumping the local populace for information on their habits_. – From _The Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

(*)(*)(*)

Obviously, I am dealing with an unusual breed of vampire. Garlic, nope. Holy water, also ineffective. I have seen possibly every vampire movie there is−hell, I even sat through _Dead and Loving It,_ and that was just painful−but movies are, after all, a Hollywood product. There must be some truth in them, though, right? But how much and what? It is time to do some research.

There are sixteen million results for 'vampire' when I google it. Results start to narrow down when I switch to 'vampire hunters'. Did you know there is an actual Federal Agency of Vampires and Zombies? I couldn't believe it. As if zombies are real.

I finally hit the mother lode with a site called _Vampire Hunters, Inc_. I click the "Contact Us" button and tell them about the coven living in Forks. Several hours later I get a reply. They are based out of Los Angeles and promise to come help me, but they want a down payment of two thousand dollars. Yeah, like that's gonna happen. Another hour goes by, and they email me again; now they'll take a thousand as a down payment. Still too high, though. I wonder if my parents would let me raid my college fund. I mean, unless we deal with the vampires in town, there may be no college in my future−there may be no future at all for me. I know their secret and who knows if they'll come gunning for me?

I keep reading though, and I get some good ideas. It says you can often figure out there are vampires in town by looking for their victims. If I can find a corpse that's been sucked dry, it would go a long way toward proving my accusations. But when I check the newspaper records for Forks, other than traffic accidents, the last murder was in 1997, and that was domestic violence. Anything more recent I would know about since my dad runs the funeral home, and I help him out quite a bit. He says that if I'm so curious, then I should come learn about it. I'm not curious−really, I'm not−he just thinks so because of the time me and Mike Newton got caught in the mortuary's basement.

Last year, Miss Clallam County had the misfortune of getting strangled right in the middle of the Labor Day parade. Somehow her sash got caught in the mechanical tail of the giant beaver behind her on the float, and it slipped around her neck. The crowd thought she was just waving vigorously until she passed out, and by then it was too late.

When Mike learned we had the body, he begged me to sneak him into the basement of the mortuary, where we prepped the deceased for burial. ""This is a golden opportunity to check out a real beauty queen," he pleaded. "You have to get me in there."

"Forget it. My dad would kill me if we got caught, and Jesus, have some respect for the dead."

"I am respectful. I want to pay my respects personally. Come on, man!"

When I refused, he started with blackmail. "Do it or I'll tell everyone how you wept like a baby during the ending of _Air Bud._"

"You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't even think of it if you would just get me in there." He fell to his knees. "I'm begging you, my best friend, begging you."

In the face of that, I was helpless. So, that night I took my dad's key ring and rode my bike to meet Mike at the funeral home.

We entered the basement through the outside door. Our footsteps echoed in the sterile concrete and tile room. "Can you put on some lights?" Mike whispered.

I found the light switch on the wall, and we spent the next few seconds letting our eyes adjust to the flood of fluorescent light. There were just a couple of steel tables, some cabinets and lockers. "Where is she?" Mike asked, his eyes round.

I went over to the cooler and opened the middle drawer. The sheet stirred over the body slightly, and Mike slowly approached. "Is she naked?" he asked.

"Go ahead and check," I told him.

He sniffed, his face grimacing at the smell. Slowly he lifted the corner of the sheet, revealing the dry, withered face. "Oh my god," he said in disgust. "What happened to her?"

I glanced behind the sheet. "Oops, that's Mrs. Keith." I pushed the drawer back in and pulled out the bottom one. "This should be her."

He looked at me like he wasn't sure he believed me and tentatively raised the sheet. "Wow, that's her," he said, almost in awe.

Despite the deep bruising on her neck, I could see the beauty that should have been there. Mike started to raise the sheet higher when I heard footsteps on the stairs. It could only be one person.

"Shit! It's my father!" I hissed as Mike dropped the corner of the sheet and we exchanged a panicked look.

"What-where?" Our gaze flitted around the room, looking for a hiding place.

I nodded to the drawer where Miss Clallam County lay. "Get in," I whispered. I could–maybe−explain my presence here, but Mike's? Never.

"You've got to be shitting me." I'd never seen Mike look so grossed out.

"Just do it!" I pushed him into the drawer where he laid on top of Miss Clallam County. His face was a study in fascinated horror as I rolled the drawer back in.

My father appeared around the corner. "Eric! What are you doing here?"

"I thought I left my history book here." For an off-the-cuff excuse, I thought that was pretty good.

"No, it's not here. If I'd seen it, I would have brought it home."

"Uh, okay. Guess I'll just head back home." I nonchalantly went for the exit.

"Do you want a ride?" my father asked.

"Uh, no. That's okay. I rode my b−" I was interrupted by a sneeze coming from the drawer behind me.

My father looked at me and then the drawer. "What the…?" He strode across the room and pulled it open.

Mike was splayed out all over Miss Clallam County's sheet like a roadkill frog. "Oh, hi, Mr. Yorkie," he said, exactly as if he'd seen my dad in the grocery store and not from a cold storage body drawer.

"Hello, Mike," my father said, giving me the slow burn look that let me know the shit I was in was truly neck deep. Needless to say, he had to let Mike go with a stern warning and a ban on ever stepping foot inside the building again. I, however, had to start working at the mortuary on Sundays until I learned some 'sensitivity to for the departed.'

Anyway, people are dying all the time but not for anything mysterious. I wonder if I should start giving all the bodies that come through the funeral home an intensive bite mark check. Like maybe the Cullens are sucking them dry and hiding the victims' bite marks in weird places, like between their toes or under their arms or something. Or hell, even the groin area, there's a big vein around there, isn't there? I wonder if Rosalie likes male victims, and if she hides her bite marks in the groin area. There is some knowledge that may be worth dying for. I'll give that particular thought more consideration tonight when I shower.

Anyway, when Saturday comes, I'm pumped. A bunch of us are going to First Beach, out by La Push. We all cram into Mike's father's Suburban, and soon we're on the beach. When a bunch of people, Bella included, decide to go visit the tidal pools, I stick around with Tyler, Lauren, and Samantha because I am pretty sure Samantha is mooning over me. It's not too long before a bunch of Quileutes show up. They have some killer weed, so we ask them to stick around. We even feed them lunch. Hell, for weed this good, I'd feed them my sister.

I'm leaning against the driftwood we're using as seats when Lauren starts talking about Bella to Samantha. "For a new girl, she's awful pushy." Lauren is so cold, she gives bitches a bad name.

Samantha passes me the joint but answers Lauren. "What do you mean?" Samantha is short and a bit hefty. I like girls like that; it usually means they have bigger tits. However, it also means she's about twenty pounds too big for Lauren to consider her as a best friend.

"She's been crushing on Edward Cullen. She was even going to ask him to come with us today." Lauren rolls her eyes like she can't believe Bella would do something so uncool.

Colin, one of the Quileutes, speaks up. "Edward Cullen, here? I don't think so." He looks around at the rest of his boys, and they all kind of guffaw. "No way, man."

"Why not? What do you mean?" I ask, trying to hold my breath in as I pass the joint on to Brady.

"Those people are freaks," Brady says.

"No shit," Colin adds. "You should hear the shit they talk about them at the council. You'd think that−"

Sam, the biggest Quileute, comes up to the circle. "Colin, that's enough." Colin shuts up immediately with a look like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh, come on. I'm interested," I protest. _Yes, I'm extremely interested._

Samantha jumps up. "Oh, god. They_ are _freaks. I didn't tell you." She turns excitedly to Lauren. "I walked in on Rosalie Hale after gym yesterday."

"Yeah, so?" Lauren tosses her hair behind her shoulder.

"She doesn't shave! Like anywhere!" Samantha giggles from behind her hands. "I haven't seen that much hair on a girl since I went to the beach with my grandmother."

"Ewwww." Lauren always acts like so she's grossed out. I remember in kindergarten she used to pick her nose like she was digging for diamonds up there.

I just sit there, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Samantha walked in on Rosalie Hale when she was naked. I could spend my whole life trying to get a glimpse of that, and Samantha just happens to walk into the showers. It's really not fair. I swear to God, if I was a girl, I would be absolutely useless because I would spend all my time just playing with my tits.

"Really." It's obvious Samantha is enjoying Lauren's attention. Lauren is like the queen Mean Girl in our school; sycophants are constantly throwing themselves at her feet. "And then there's Alice."

"What about Alice?" Tyler asks.

Samantha sticks her finger in her cheek and twirls it. "She's just so damn perky."

"Tell me about it," Lauren says grumpily and takes the joint from another of the Quileutes. "Sometimes I just want to bitchslap her."

"Do you know one time she came up and threatened me?" Samantha asks, her eyes round.

"Alice? Little Alice?" Tyler asks.

"Yeah. I'd been thinking about asking Jasper to the Sadie Hawkins dance. And−"

Lauren makes a face. "You were gonna ask Jasper to the dance?"

"I was just thinking about it," Samantha admits a bit shamefacedly. "Come on," she says to Lauren's sour face. "Even you have to admit, he's kinda hot."

"He's no such thing!" Lauren protests. "All that, 'Yes, Ma'am', and 'Whatever you say, darling." Lauren drawls it out in an exaggerated Southern accent. "Jesus Christ, he sounds like a cross between trailer trash and _Slingblade_."

That sets the guys laughing, but Samantha pushes on. "Well, anyway, the point is I was going to ask him, but before I could even talk to him, Alice shows up in my face and says if I even go near him, she'll cut up all my credit cards and then have me committed."

I've had about enough of this. The girls can play 'Let's Trash Anyone Who's Not Here', but this isn't my favorite game, and it's obvious I'm not going to get any useful information. Luckily, the tidal group people show back up. Introductions are made, and more food is passed.

I take the last swig of my soda and stretch. "I think I'm gonna get my board and try the waves."

"I'll join you." Colin jumps up and follows me toward the car where my board is.

"Listen," I say to him as we head to the parking lot. "What did you mean back there?"

"What? Oh, you mean about the Cullens?" he asks, tucking his long hair behind his ear.

"Yeah. I bet you guys know all kinds of stuff." Maybe if I flatter him, I can get him to talk. People love to think they know shit that nobody else does. And they love to let other people know it even more.

"We're not supposed to say." He looks around and back at the campfire where everyone else is gathered. "Let's just say the Cullens are freakier than you ever imagined."

I lean my head in closer. "Like how?"

He lowers his voice. "Well, you've seen them, right? They're all pale and cold looking? And they say they're all foster kids?"

My heart starts beating fast. This could be the confirmation I need. Surely the Quileutes would know something. "Yeah?"

Colin glances around us once more. "One time, at the drugstore in town, I was watching Emmett and Rosalie from across the parking lot in my car." He drops his voice even further. "They kissed each other. On the lips." He's almost snickering now. "With tongue."

He sees my look of bewilderment. "You know, brothers and sisters…kissing?"

Talk about yesterday's headline. But I can't let this opportunity pass me up, so I press him. "Yeah, but what about them being vampires?"

"Vampires?" He looks at me, his black eyes all round.

"Yeah." _Come on, spill._

He looks me deep in the eyes for a moment. Then he throws back his head, laughing hysterically. "Vampires? HAHAHA! Vampires!"

Now I don't know whether to start laughing with him, like I just made a joke, or try to stand my ground. In the end, I laugh half-heartedly.

"Oh, man, that's funny." Colin claps a hand on my shoulder when he catches his breath. "I think there's more cocksucking than bloodsucking going on in that family."

"Yeah, haha," I say.

On our way back to the campfire with my board under my arm, I see Bella and one of the Quileutes−I think they said his name is Jacob or Joseph, something like that−taking off down the beach. She's leaning in real close. Bella must have the worst taste in men, like ever.

The wind has picked up, and it's gotten colder, so I cancel the surfing idea. I didn't bring my wet suit anyway, and no one else is braving the water. The clouds move in, and we decide to pack it up. Mike and I kick sand over the fire pit, and as I'm carrying a cooler back to the car, I walk up next to Bella who has an armload of blankets.

"So, did you have fun?"

She smiles shyly from behind her hair that's fallen across her face. "Yeah, it was good."

"I saw you and Jacob talking. Looked pretty intense."

"Um, yeah. He was telling me about some of the old stories from the tribe." I bet he wasn't telling her about vampires. The Quileutes seem pretty clueless in that respect. "And we talked about my truck. My dad bought it from his dad."

"How's it feel driving a truck older than you are?"

"Hey, I just treat her with respect. She deserves it." She smiles at me again. Maybe she really does have to go to Seattle next weekend. I think she wants me.


	4. Chapter 4 Where Secrets Are Revealed

_a/n I have some awesome people helping me with this story. They're feeding me story ideas, funny bits, better phrasing. It takes a village to write a fanfic. At least, one about Eric Yorkie. _

(*)(*)(*)

_The most important thing to remember when hunting vampires is this: don't let them know you know what they are. They will immediately go on the offensive. You're much better off picking when to force a confrontation and eradication than letting them decide. _-From _The Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

_Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. _That's all I can think. Cullen knows. Edward Cullen _knows_. He knows I know. Now I know that he knows that I know.

I am sure of it. I am running down the school corridor for my life because a vampire knows I have his number.

It's been sunny the last couple of days, and the Cullens haven't been around−camping is the official explanation, but I know what BS that is. Hunting is a more likely explanation−the hunting of humans' variety. Despite the setback at First Beach, I am determined to keep my course: to expose the Cullens for what they are before the people of Forks start showing up dead, or even worse, undead.

I was all set to go over Mike's on Monday, but he suddenly decided to ask Jessica out to dinner. I'm wondering if he's been hypnotized by Edward to stay away from Bella; maybe Edward doesn't want the competition. I finally get over there on Tuesday to check out _Starcraft II. _Even Ben is there, since the girls had all decided to go to Port Angeles to go dress-shopping. I'd heard Bella was even going, though why she would want a dress, I don't know. If she's not going to the Sadie Hawkins dance, perhaps she wants one for a vampire wedding or something. Bella dressed like Morticia Addams could be pretty hot. Emmett with a shaved head would make a pretty good Uncle Fester. Jasper could be Lurch; they both have that bouncing, ebullient personality.

Anyway, _Starcraft _is everything the guys said it would be, and I'm doing pretty well on it until the lava smokes me. It really is a very cool game. It makes me wonder if I should change the focus of the game I'm developing into something like _Vampires In Space_.

This morning, I'm sitting in the parking lot with Tyler, who is still driving that piece-of-shit van. We've renamed it the Rattletrap, because a) it is now more of a deathtrap than ever, and b) since the accident it rattles like bobble-head in a hurricane. As we are talking over game strategies, Rosalie's red convertible comes squealing into the parking lot. Four−just four−of the Cullens get out. Rosalie looks so good coming out of that car, the visuals are enough to give me wanking material for days. Really, I can replay it in slo-mo in my head−the way she slides those long legs out of the car, the way she tosses her hair or bends over slightly to close the car door. It's just too much temptation−like waving a bottle of Jack Daniels at an AA meeting or a centerfold at an Eagle Scout troop.

We are still sitting there when Edward shows up in his Volvo, and Bella's in his car. He opens the car door for her, and she gets out, all blushing and self-conscious, sneaking glances at us while we all watch with our jaws scraping the ground.

"Is that Bella getting out of Edward Cullen's car?" Tyler asks, sotto voce.

"Yeah," Mike grumbles dejectedly. "I can't believe it."

"Me, neither," Tyler says bitterly. "I was sure he was gay."

Mike looks at Tyler over his shoulder. "What do you care? Gonna ask him for a date?"

"Nah, man." Tyler smirks. "Your father wants his phone number." This prompts a round of badly done kung-fu fighting between Mike and Tyler. They try to involve me but my heart just isn't in it, so I push off and head toward the school.

Bella is wearing Edward's jacket, I'm sure of it, because two minutes later Jessica waylays them on the way to class, gives Bella her real jacket, and Bella gives Edward the one she was wearing. I don't know what the hell is going on, but Bella is all blushing and goofy with this dreamy look in her eyes, and I'm sure that she is now completely under a vampire spell. A teenage vampire spell.

God, could there be anything more dangerous to adolescent girls than a teenage vampire? Poor Bella, he's probably already boinked her six ways from Sunday. I swear I can see her limping a little bit, like she's so sore she can hardly walk. The poor girl, she really needs to be rescued from him.

I'm watching this exchange from across the schoolyard when Bella turns away to head for class. All of a sudden Cullen stops like he's been hit by a freight train. He pivots on his heel and stares in my direction. He looks at me curiously, tilting his head a little like he's listening to something or like a dog will when you do something unexpected.

Those damn vampire eyes capture me from across the courtyard, and I am pretty much stuck in my shoes like they're nailed down. I'm mesmerized by those yellow irises surrounded by his freakishly pale skin and that square Captain America jaw. It's so obvious he's undead now that I know what it is I'm truly seeing. I stare at him, dumbfounded, with an expression that would make Jason Stackhouse look like a rocket scientist, and it's only the sound of my books hitting the ground as they slide out of my hand that breaks the spell.

I snap out of it, startled by the thud of my books, and bend down to pick them up. I glance back up at Cullen, and his expression slides from neutral curiosity to focused concentration. He's looking at me with those feral eyes as if he wants to pin me down like a biology frog and dissect me.

I kneel and gather my books, but I keep my eyes on him_. I know what you are,_ I think. _Vampire._

Understanding blossoms in his eyes.

_Holy_ _shit on a stick, somehow he heard that. _My heart jumps in my throat. His eyes narrow, and his eyebrows draw down−not a good sign. Mr. He takes a step toward me.

That's enough for me.I've just managed to piss off a vampire. _Way to go, Yorkie. _Suddenly it occurs to me that maybe my current strategy has not been the best. The only person that knows the Cullens are vampires is me. They get rid of me, and they're all golden.

"Eric!" Cullen calls to me, but I take off like a bat out of hell and enter the first building door I can. I look behind me and catch a glimpse of him heading this way just as the door closes. _He's coming after me! Holy fucking fangs, Batman! _

I start running down the hall, now emptying as people get into their first class, and turn down the nearest corridor available. I take a couple of other turns, trying to lose him, when I hear the bell announcing first class. I'm alone in the hall when I hear footsteps coming this way. Crap, oh crap, oh crap. This is a dead-end corridor. Besides the locked back door to the gym, there's only a janitor's closet in this hall. Into the closet I go.

My heart is pounding so loud, I'm sure he can hear it through the walls. I'm standing in the middle of a small closet with perhaps the dirtiest utility sink I have ever seen and a sordid collection of the foulest smelling mops and brooms ever to call themselves janitorial supplies. Jesus, it's no wonder our school never looks clean; how could it when they use this shit to clean it with? But I hear the _thwap thwap_ of leather shoes approaching, and I know how trapped rats feel.

This is it. God, I'm going to die, aren't I? I'm thinking it sucks; damn, I haven't even ever gotten laid. The closest I've come is feeling up Jessica Stanley in a closet at Mike's fourteenth birthday party. Seven minutes of heaven should not be the only sex I get before actually _going to_ heaven. It's just so freaking unfair.

I'm holding my breath. The footsteps get closer and closer until they stop right outside the door. I grab a mop; it's the only defensive weapon I can see. My knuckles get white with the grip I have on the thing. I wait, ready to spring, as the door slowly opens.

"HA!" I yell, jumping from my place and spearing the mop into the face of my attacker. "You won't eat me without a fight, you spawn of Satan!"

Mr. Sidarski, the school custodian, throws his hands up in the air with a strangled cry as I mistakenly shove the mop in his face.

"Arrrrgggghh," he yells, stepping backwards as I stumble out of the closet, trying to stop my forward momentum that I was going to use for attack purposes. Mr. Sidarski, who is as round as he is tall, steps aside and grabs convulsively at his chest as I stumble onto the floor.

"Jesus, kid, what are you doing?" he gasps when he can catch his breath.

"I thought you were someone else," I say lamely, rising from my sprawl.

"Christ, you kids are gonna give me a heart attack." He snatches the mop out of my hand. "And leave my stuff alone!"

I stand there, my heart still pounding and wondering where Edward Cullen has gone. "I-I'm sorry."

"Go on," Mr. Sidarski growls. "You've had your fun. Get to class."

"Um, yeah. Good idea," I take off for history, leaving him muttering about lack of respect and days until retirement. Hey, if he really had been a vampire, I'd have gotten him good.

I stop by the office to get a late slip and finally slide behind my desk. Emmett's in this class, but he completely ignores me; apparently, Edward hasn't told him yet that I have discovered their dirty secret. It's just a matter of time though, before the whole coven hears I know the horror they have been hiding.

I'm fucked. I know I am. Seven vampires versus me. I'm wracking my brain trying to think of some way to survive this week. _Come on, Yorkie. Work, brain, work. _

As Mr. Devin winds up class, I pick through my books and notes, still in shambles from when I dropped them when Forks' own undead Casanova was chasing me. I'm one of the last students to leave class, and I walk out dejectedly because I have no plan for what to do next.

"Eric…" I hear a malevolent, sibilant hiss as I leave the classroom. Voldemort should sound so evil.

"Wha-a-a!" I yell, nearly jumping out of my skin and turning in one swift move. Edward is leaning against the lockers, apparently waiting for me like a lion at a zebra's watering hole.

"Oh, God," I say, backing up. "What do you want?"

He holds out my English homework. "I just wanted to give you this. You dropped it in the courtyard." He has the most sincere smile on his face, and that's how I know he's up to something because he has _never_ smiled at anybody for anything. Well, not before Bella came, anyway.

I'm afraid to look him in the eyes. He might dazzle me or something, and I don't know what he's doing for lunch, but I don't want to be on the menu.

I sidle towards him, one small step at a time, until I can snatch my homework out of his hand. "Um, thanks," I mutter.

"Sure, Eric. Anytime."

Oh, he's a clever one−you bet. Actually being nice to someone, like that's gonna get him somewhere. I take off down the hall but glance over my shoulder before I turn the corner. He's watching me, and he's still smiling. _Creepy._

I stumble through the next few classes, barely able to think.

When lunchtime comes, I'm one of the first people in line. My best bet for protection right now is the cover of other people. As long as there are witnesses, I should be safe from outright attack. It's not like Edward would kill a whole classroom of kids just for one meal, right?

I snag our usual table. Across the cafeteria, I can see Edward and his "siblings" come in. As one big pasty-faced group, they go through the lunch line, getting their 'play' food. Edward grabs the table he was sitting at with Bella before, and the rest of them drift to their usual spot. Bella joins Edward. I shake my head, thinking, _Girl, you are well on your way to having vampire babies, no doubt_. _Or vampire eggs, or something equally repulsive._

The rest of the crew joins me, and it's the usual combination of gossip from the ladies, plans for the weekend and horsing around. I try to join in, but I'm just not feeling it.

"Geez, Yorkie, what did you do to the Cullens?" Lauren asks, picking through her salad.

I stiffen immediately. "Why?"

She chews and swallows. "They've been looking over here at you like you're dinner."

Oh, truer words were never spoken. I glance over my shoulder, and while Edward and Bella are wrapped up in their own little world, the rest of the Cullens are all staring right at me. Alice gives me a shy little wave while Jasper cocks an eyebrow with a slight nod, and Emmett just has a big shit-eating grin. _Yeah, and I'm the shit._ I groan and put my head on the table.

Remarkably, I manage to avoid the Cullens the rest of the day, and I make it home alive in the afternoon. When I boot up my computer, there's another email message for me from _Vampire Hunters, Inc_. They want to know just how much I am willing to offer for them to make a trip up here. Somehow, this operation is sounding less and less reliable. I offer them two hundred dollars, my total net worth, and hit 'send'.

Meanwhile, it is time to go for the nuclear option. There is one thing that holds off vampires, regardless of type: the cross. I need a crucifix, preferably silver. However, where to get one is a problem. My mother does Shinto, and my dad is a lapsed Protestant. It's not like I've got Jesus hanging on the walls.

I'm sure there are stores in Seattle or on the internet that have the kind of thing I have in mind. Problem is, I need it now. Until I get a handle on this thing, my own safety is paramount and poor Bella is unknowingly falling prey to who knows what kind of ugly machinations and undead sex.

My sister, Jennifer, throws open the door to my bedroom. Of course, knocking on it first would be a foreign concept to her. "Hey, Eric," she says. Just by the fact that she's calling me Eric, instead of twerp or dickface or a thousand other derogatory terms, tells me she wants a favor.

"What do you want?" I ask suspiciously.

She comes in and sits on my bed. She looks a lot like my mother, petite and dainty, but don't let that fool you. Her language could blister paint off walls. Her hair is the coolest thing about her. It's all spiky with red and blue streaks. She's wearing at least three shirts and a skirt and leggings and tights, enough clothes to outfit a handful of the homeless. "I'm supposed to meet Heather and Michele tomorrow. I need you to meet Danny's bus in the afternoon."

Thursday is when my mother volunteers at the library, so she can't do it. My brother Danny goes to a special needs school in Bogachiel. They drop him off over on Route 101, and he needs someone to walk him home. I suppose I could do it, as long as I am still alive. "What's in it for me?" I ask.

"God, Eric," she spits out. "Can't you ever just do me a favor?"

I look at her skeptically. "The last time I wanted a ride over Mike's house you charged me ten bucks. A taxi would have been cheaper."

"Alright, alright. Next time you need a ride, you got credit."

I have her on the run now. She must be desperate. "Next _two _times," I argue craftily.

"No way," she protests.

"Okay," I say, turning back to the computer. "I suppose Heather and Michele can have fun without you."

I don't hear anything from behind me while she thinks it over. "You suck; you know that, don't you?"

"Maybe, but in a good way," I say evenly. _As differentiated from a _bad_ way which would be sucking blood._

"Deal," she says reluctantly. I watch her and her assorted clothing leave the room.

It hits me then, of course. She has a crucifix. She was Madonna for Halloween last year−early Madonna, like a virgin Madonna. I remember she had this huge crucifix necklace. I scramble to my feet.

"Jen!" I yell down the stairs, but she has already left. Out the front window, I can see her car backing down the driveway and she's off.

Surely she'd give up a piece of jewelry for the life of her brother? Probably not, but I don't let that stop me. She has a huge bunch of necklaces hanging off the clothes rack in her room. She'll never even notice that it's missing.

I sneak it back to my room. It's about five inches long, and although it might be silver-colored, judging by its weight in my hand it's not metal. The figure on it is pretty cheesy; it makes me think of Monty Python, but it should do the trick. I slip it around my neck and under my tee shirt. When I check in the mirror to see if it's visible, I realize it makes it look like I have some spiky chest deformity. But it better give me the protection I need.

Because I am going to need _a lot_ of protection, and not the kind you find in a Trojan box.

* * *

A/N Some recs to check out:

Coming Throught The Rye by mac214 www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6048208/1/Coming_Through_the_Rye

A Vow of Strongest Stone by Hmonster4 www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6091777/1/A_Vow_of_Strongest_Stone

Sins of The Piano Man by Solareclipses www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6036342/1/bSins_b_of_the_bPiano_b_bMan_b


	5. Chapter 5 Where Games Are Played

A/N Thanks to Heather and Mac for a great job of betaing, and giving me time to bounce ideas off them and bouncing ideas back. Love also to MKatyCee, Tydestra and Erin for the pre-reading and giving me the courage to post this bit of silliness.

Please blame me for any errors. I can screw up literally anything.

* * *

_Head games are not uncommon with these creatures. Just hold on to what you know what is tru__e_. -From _The Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

(*)(*)(*)

It's Thursday, and I have to really drag my ass to get to school. I must have woken up a thousand times last night−I was either choking on the necklace getting caught around my neck, or I'd rolled over onto the crucifix dangling from it, and it'd poked me painfully in the chest. When I get up in the morning, I can see white spots on the crucifix that indicate where a couple of the thorns of Jesus' crown snapped off and He's missing the front part of His left foot. I inspected my skin to see if any of them were embedded in my skin, but I find the tiny silver-painted plaster pieces in between my sheets and save them on my dresser to glue back on later.

This is really half-assed, and I know it is. I check the computer to see if there's a response from _Vampire Hunters Inc_., but there's nothing. I have to get through this day relying on my own resources. I look in the mirror, trying to psyche myself up. "Vampires are no match for me," I tell my reflection. "I was born to triumph over evil." I have my best superhero face on.

A sixteen-year-old kid stares back at me, daring me to take myself seriously. "Because I'm good enough and I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me." _Thank you, Stuart Smalley._ I turn away, sighing, and head down to breakfast.

It's movie day in history class. Emmett is in his usual seat, two desks to my right, but I try to ignore him as Mr. Devin starts up a movie called_ Beckett_, some drama about an English king. The room is dark except for the images on the TV screen, but I can hardly watch the film as I'm too busy glancing over at Emmett, wondering what he and his family are going to do. We're about fifteen minutes into the film, and I see Emmett is just kind of fooling with a compass that you'd use for math, the metal kind with a sharp point at one end and a pencil on the other, the ones used to draw circles with. He's balancing it on one end as he watches the movie, but then he catches my eye. I can't look away as he plucks the pencil out of it, then wraps his big meaty fist around the compass and squeezes it. He glances around slyly, making sure no one else is watching, then with a smile opens his fist so I can see the steel compass is now just a shiny ball of metal.

He grins widely at me before I look away. _Fucking vampire show-off_. I slip my hand inside my shirt and bring out the crucifix I have in there. Everyone else in the class is either into the movie or asleep with their head on their desk. Surreptitiously, I show it to Emmett._ Don't fuck with _me_, bloodsucker._

Emmett's head falls onto his arms on the desk. It's only after a few seconds that I realize his shoulders are shaking with laughter. Well, that's not what I expected, but if the crucifix renders them disabled in anyway, then that's a plus, I suppose.

I let myself dream for a moment. _I'm standing in the school yard, my hands on my hips and the crucifix flashing in the sun. Around me, the Cullens are strewn on the ground, helpless with laughter. Bella, Angela and a dozen other girls run up to me, all dressed like Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. "Oh, Eric!" they exclaim, pressing themselves against me. "We knew you were right all along!" _

Mr. Devin comes up behind me. "Everything okay, Mr. Yorkie?"

I slip the crucifix back under my collar. "Just fine." Emmett's shoulders are still shaking silently. A few minutes later when I glance back over at Emmett, he's carefully straightening the compass back out, running the metal legs through his fingers.

When class is over, I jump out of my seat like a jack-in-the-box and beat it out of the room. I'm already in my seat in Advanced Algebra when Bella walks in, and through the door I can see Edward turn away. He's been escorting her to class like he's got to chaperone her in the halls. Now that she's been primed, he doesn't want anyone carving into his territory. Or should I say _fucking around _with his territory?

Bella slides into the seat in front of me and starts fiddling with her notebook. She's got her hair in a ponytail today. No bite marks on her neck, at least. I wonder where they are. Perhaps on her chest or her thigh? That's where I'd go, anyway.

"Bella," I whisper.

She turns around. "Hey, Eric. What's up?"

"So, you've been getting pretty close to Edward, huh?" I look in her eyes, wondering how much she knows about the Cullens, but she appears absolutely clueless. Would she believe me if I told her? I still need proof, or no one will believe me.

"Well, I…" she stammers and blushes. "He's really a nice guy when you get to know him."

"Bella." I have to try to warn her, even if it does mean the end of my social life. The way things are headed, I may never get laid, anyway. "You don't know anything about him. Be careful."

She looks at me with a strange light in her eyes. "Why? It's not…" She pauses for a beat before continuing. "It's not like he's a monster or anything." This makes her start giggling insanely. She's cackling to herself like a madman gloating over a secret cache of diamonds. She as turns around as Mr. Varner calls to the class to order.

Christ. Maybe she does know and doesn't care. Maybe she's so deep into the vampire spell that she's become a kind of sexual Renfield to Edward's Dracula. I'm betting their relationship has sunk to depths of sexual depravity that would leave potential readers gasping with the unlikelihood of it all. There's nothing I can do to help her except get rid of the vampire whose spell she is under. I'm hoping it will work like in _The Lost Boys_-kill the leader and everybody is saved.

I get an out from having to go to gym, using my photographer/reporter card. I tell Mr. Agney we need some action shots for the upcoming edition of the newspaper, and he gives me a pass. This enables me to watch gym from way up on the bleachers, taking shots of the volleyball action down below. Coach Clapp is down there, as is Jasper, doing his "Olympic Champion forced into high school" bit with the volleyball. George Yee clambers up onto the bleachers behind me, so I turn to discuss the front page when a volleyball comes whistling out of nowhere and hits me smack in the back of the head.

I drop the camera and stumble down a couple steps. On the floor, kids are laughing while Jasper is smiling and shrugging his shoulders.

"Sorry!" Jasper yells. _Yeah, right._ He fucking planned that shot. I am really starting to hate vampires.

At lunch, it's the same; Edward and Bella sit in their own little bubble, talking quietly and intensely while we prey animals sit around the table like pigs at the trough, waiting for something to happen. The other Cullens sit off in their own little goth-o-sphere, playing with their food and watching the rest of us with preternaturally gleaming eyes.

Preternaturally. That's Anne Rice's favorite word for vampires. I've been trying to read up on classic vamp literature, hoping to find some clues on how to get rid of them, but it hasn't helped. I still don't understand what_ preternaturally _even means. With Lestat, you could always sneak up on him during the day when he was sleeping, but these vamps don't seem to have to sleep at all. They're here in school during the day, at least the cloudy days, and I've seen them shopping and at the movies in Port Angeles at night.

Mike is especially bitter about the Cullen-Swan connection, and he doesn't care who knows it. It's more than a little awkward with Jessica sitting there, pretending like it doesn't matter. "That is wrong," he says, throwing his fork down and glaring at the table where Edward and Bella sit. "So fucking wrong."

"I know," Jessica agrees with him. "What can he possibly see in her?"

"She's probably just after his money," Mike says, leaning back in his chair.

"Or his car," Ben interjects.

"Or his hair," Jessica grumbles.

"Or his body," Lauren adds. We all stop and look at her, but she just shrugs and keeps eating her Jello.

"Maybe he's a nice guy after all," Angela pipes up. Mike, Ben and I look at each other dumbfounded before breaking into laughter.

I peek over at the Cullen/Hale table. They're all talking pretty seriously, glancing first at Edward and Bella, then toward me every so often. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I would love to know what they're saying. I wish I had some cool spy-like equipment. Then it occurs to me−shit! Maybe I do.

Well, _I_ don't, but there is a small digital recorder we have for the newspaper. If I could hide it somewhere, maybe I could capture what they're saying. A plan is formed, and I head over to George Yee's table to convince him to lend me the recorder.

Lunch is pretty much done, and the cafeteria has emptied out before I convince Yee to let me have it. He's such a prissy dickhead sometimes. He tell me to come by the A/V room after the last class to pick it up, so I head out the double doors to head towards Biology.

_Shit!_ Rosalie, Emmett, Alice and Jasper are just on the other side of the doors, and their conversation stops immediately as I exit the cafeteria. I walk by them with my head down, trying to think of nothing but bunnies and rainbows, because what if they _all _can read my thoughts? As I pass them, I hear this low _growl_ coming from one of them, and when I glance back over my shoulder, they're all staring at me with those creepy, yellow eyes, like some kind of _Children of the Corn_ freak show. Well, crucifix or no crucifix, I wing it down the corridor. Just before I turn the corner, I hear Emmett call in a high voice, "Run, Forrest, run!" I look over my shoulder to see Rosalie slapping Emmett on the arm while the rest of them laugh.

I really fucking hate vampires.

I cut biology. I'm not going to take a chance that Edward overhears any stray thoughts about the plan I have to catch them on tape, hopefully saying something incriminating. I could catch them planning their next bloody raid or even just discussing the latest flavor they got from the blood bank. Maybe they're having all kinds of kinky sex with each other. Nah, that would be too unlikely. They're vampires, not perverts, right?

I hang out in the computer lab, then in the boys' room until the end of the day, and then go see George to get the digital recorder before swinging onto my bus.

I arrive home, drop my books off, and head out to meet my brother Danny's bus. We live in South Forks, and our house is about a half mile down a mostly dirt road from 101, so someone always meets Danny at his stop.

The yellow doors of the school bus open. "Howdy, Eric," the driver calls, as the traffic behind him stops.

"Hey, Mr. Chon," I call back as Danny comes down the bus steps.

"Eric!" Danny's face lights up into a big grin when he sees me. He has the round face symptomatic of Down Syndrome, but it's like my dad says, when he smiles, the sun comes out. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me like he hasn't seen me in two weeks, never mind we had breakfast together this morning. For all him being a pain in the ass sometimes, he really is the world's sweetest kid.

"Hey, buddy, how was your day?" I ask with my arm around his shoulders as the bus pulls away. and we start back toward home. He doesn't even reach my shoulder; his disability keeps him short.

"Great!" he says with his usual enthusiasm. "I made you something."

"You made something for me?" I ask as he stops to pull his backpack off his shoulders. He sets it on the ground and digs through the papers.

"Here." He hands me a slightly crumpled paper. "I wanted to give it to you 'cause of the other ones I ruined."

"Oh, thanks, Danny." I turn the paper right-side up and almost burst out laughing. It's a crayon drawing of an_ extremely _buxom woman. She's got wild black hair.

"It's a vampire queen," Danny says, laughing. "See the fangs?"

Now that I do look close, I see a couple of small triangles where her mouth would be. "Well, that's very good. Thanks."

Danny covers his mouth, and he lets loose with a goofy chuckle. "Mr. Tristan says that I must like girls a lot."

Considering that the breasts on this queen are twice as big as she is, I have a feeling he must be right. "Well, I can see why," I say, and we both laugh.

He picks up his backpack and slips it back on while I carefully fold my drawing.

"Can we take the shortcut home?" Danny asks. "Please?"

I hesitate. It's not really a shortcut−in fact it's a bit longer−but it takes you through the woods rather than just along our extended driveway.

"Please?" he asks again.

"Sure, why not?" I agree. Mom won't be home for a while; we've got time.

We head off on the footpath. The clouds have broken, and it's actually a nice day. The sun pours through the branches of the trees and lights up the dense parts of these woods. Danny continues to tell me about his day; he loves his teachers. I follow behind him, letting him set the pace. We come to a fork in the trail.

"That way," I say, pointing right.

Danny stops. "Where does that go?" he wonders.

"It goes by what's left of Grandpa's old house." It's really just a foundation now. It burned down in the big forest fire over fifty years ago.

"Can we go see?" Danny asks, his eyes round.

"Uh, okay." Mom keeps him on a pretty short leash; he doesn't get much chance to go exploring. But I'm his big brother, I should be showing him this stuff.

We head off down the path. "Grandpa used to live there when he was a boy," I tell Danny. "A big fire started in the park, and the fire started coming this way, so they made everybody leave."

"Mom won't let me play with matches."

"Because of fire, that's right." I help him step over the log in the path. "The fire came and their whole house burned. Their neighbors', too."

"Did it burn our house?"

"No, silly. Our house wasn't built yet. But Grandpa said it burnt all his toys, and the only thing he had left was a truck he'd taken with him."

He thinks this over as we keep walking. "Grandpa must have been sad."

That's Danny for you. He's just the best. There's a purity and simplicity in the way he sees the world that just slays me. Sometimes that innocence is something I wish I still had. I step forward and put my arm around his shoulders as we continue walking. "I bet he was, buddy. I bet he was."

We come to the place where the house once was. All that's left is a rectangular stone wall surrounding an indentation in the earth that's filled with leaves. The remains of a chimney lay in a jumble of stones. This was once a house; now all that's left is an outline of the foundation.

I walk up to the stone wall. "This is it."

"Where?" he asks.

"See the wall going around? The house was on top of that."

"And the house burned down?"

"Yep." I wave my arm at the woods around us. "All of the trees and bushes around here, too. But it was a long time ago, so they've all grown back."

Danny is appropriately awed and walks around the foundation.

"Careful, now," I caution him. "Not too close." That's all I need is for him to fall in.

There's a flash of red in the nearby brush, and I step closer to look. It's a scrap of fabric, and as I poke at it, I can see it looks like part of a sleeve and collar of a tee shirt. I lift my head and notice there're scraps of clothing all around here, hanging off the bushes and tree branches. There's even what looks like pieces of tighty-whities, like somebody cut up everything they were wearing into shreds. Or even exploded out of their clothing. Weird.

I turn away from it. I have enough weird in my life right now, thank you very much.

"Where does that go?" Danny asks, pointing to a path heading north.

"It goes by the caves at Deer Ridge." There's a rock outcropping with some very cool caves. The guys and I used to go camping by them.

"I like caves," Danny says. He's never been to one that I know.

"It's kind of far, buddy," I say. "Maybe we can go some other time."

He turns around. "I'm hungry."

"Alright, come on, then." We start on the path to the house when off in the distance, there comes a long, plaintive howl.

Howling. We get coyotes around here, but that isn't any coyote. Our closest neighbor owns a Chihuahua. That ain't it either. Suddenly, I'm getting the creeps, and I hustle Danny down the path faster.

We get back to the house, and I put together a snack for Danny. I check my computer, and thank the gods, at last Vampires Hunters Inc. has answered.

_Mr. Yorkie:_

_I will arrive on Saturday. Please have the cash ready. You should have accommodations for me. _

_Solomon Kane_

That night in bed something wakes me up. I lay there, trying to figure out what it was that brought me out of sleep, when I hear it again, a long, drawn-out, full-chested howling. I roll so I can see out the window. Sure enough, it's a full moon. I groan and raise the covers over my head.

I wonder if Vampire Hunters, Inc. can offer me a two-for-one on werewolves.

* * *

A/N There actually was a huge forest fire in Forks in 1951, which wiped out acreage and many homes as well. You can google it, as Heather told me.

Assuming we ignore Midnight Sun (which I am prone to do) we're still in canon, pretty much... Hey, it coulda happened this way. Will this stay in canon? Hmmm, we'll see.


	6. Chapter 6 Where I Am Confronted

_A/N Thanks to all those leaving me reviews. You guys knock me back something fierce._

* * *

_The most important virtue required in hunting vampires is courage. Vampires know they're scary and will use that and any other advantage in situations designed to dominate you_. - From _The Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

The next morning I ride my bike to school so I can get there early. Before anyone's around, I take the recorder, switch it to voice-activated mode, and tape it to the underside of the Cullens' lunch table. I am excited. This is probably my best idea yet. See, it's modern day vampire hunting, making technology work for you.

I know people, even my best friends, won't believe in something as outlandish as vampires in Forks unless I have proof. Just a few unguarded words from the Cullens, a drained victim, or an undeniable show of vampire speed is what I need to build my case. And the sooner I can show people I'm right, the safer I'll be. But until then, I need to be strong and fearless. Someone has to stand up to the vampires. Because first it's vampires, then it's werewolves. Then it'll be shape shifters and maenads and all kind of unsavory characters, and they'll turn this lovely, sleepy town into some kind of real-life Bon Temps. Ain't nobody going to do that to my town.

I keep a low profile that morning, trying to avoid thinking about vampires and werewolves and any other nasty creatures−to keep the images out of my mind, in case anyone is looking. I duck into the boys' bathroom between math and Spanish. I take care of business, and I'm tucking in my shirt as I exit the stall when I come right up against Emmett's chest. He and Jasper are waiting right outside, leaning on either side of the door. We three are the only ones in here. The two of them tower above me.

My heart starts pounding in my chest, like it wants to jump into my throat, but I try to play it cool. "What do you guys want?"

"Oh, I don't know as to how we're wanting anything," Jasper drawls.

Emmett smiles, the same way a shark does when it slides by you in the water, checking you out. "Maybe we just want to be friends."

I turn sideways to slide past them, heading over to the sinks. I might be facing down vampires, but a guy still has to wash his hands. "I'm surprised you're brave enough to come in here. Aren't you afraid your reflection won't show up in the mirrors?" I surprise even myself with the balls it takes to say that.

"Do we look like we're afraid?" Emmett's reflection asks me. He's got a cocky grin on his face.

I grab the sink's lever handles so they don't see my hands are shaking. "So, what's bringing on this sudden desire to be friends?"

The two of them exchange glances. "Edward and Bella," Jasper says.

I look at them via the mirrors. The hairs on my neck are standing straight up, but I start scrubbing my hands. "What about them?"

"We want you to leave them alone. They like each other. They deserve some room to let things...develop," Emmett explains. He's serious. If he wasn't a treacherous vampire, I might even think he cares about his brother.

"Hasn't Edward already done his hocus-pocus thing on her?" I ask bitterly. "The poor girl was so sore, she could barely walk yesterday."

Emmett and Jasper exchange another glance. "Edward? You think he and Bella are…?"

"Well, yeah. Isn't it obvious?"

Emmett lets out a little chuckle. Jasper snorts once. "Edward," Emmett says, looking at the ground.

"And Bella," Jasper adds. They start laughing, chuckling at first, then as they think about it more, increasingly harder. I turn around from the sink and cross my arms over my chest as the two of them grab onto each other for support, they're laughing so hard. Jasper looks at me, and suddenly I'm starting, too. _Edward and Bella. Yeah, that's funny._ Pretty soon, I'm laughing with them, but I don't really understand why. I'm looking between the two of them, completely mind-fucked.

"Christ, no," Emmett says when he can finally talk. "I'd be surprised if he's even grabbed titty."

I'm still chuckling and wondering why. "Why should I believe you?" I ask, finally shaking off the strange compulsion. This is the consequence of hanging with vampires: you lose touch with reality. Next I'll be throwing birthday parties or some such nonsense for them.

"Why not?" Jasper asks reasonably as the door swings open, and a couple of freshmen slink into the bathroom. They only come up about halfway on Emmett and Jasper, and with furtive glances at us, slide into the first two stalls.

I head toward the door as Emmett claps his paw on my shoulder. "Really, just give them some space."

I'm saved from having to answer because as I pull the door open, Alice is standing just outside the boys' room, frowning with her arms crossed. She looks like a pissed-off Tinkerbelle. But it's not me that has apparently earned her elvish wrath.

As I walk away, I hear her collar Emmett and Jasper behind me. "What in hell do you two think you're doing?"

I glance back over my shoulder. She's got the two of them pinned up against the wall and is pointing her finger in their faces. It's like a Chihuahua facing down a couple of Dobermans, and she has them all but rolling over to show their throats. "Hey, we were just trying to warn him off, " Emmett starts to protest.

"Well, don't," she says crossly. "I've got this covered, and I don't need you two fucking things up!"

"Come on, Alice," Jasper says placatingly, reaching out to her. "Don't spoil our fun."

She slaps his hand away. "Spoil your fun? You guys don't realize what a thin line we're walking. " She turns to see me watching as I slowly walk backwards away from them. She points a red-painted fingernail in my direction. "You. Get to class."

_Yes, ma'am._

Lunchtime comes. The Cullens are at their usual table, and they're talking among themselves. I can't wait to hear what the recorder picks up. While the rest of my gang is chowing down and yakking about the Sadie Hawkins dance, I'm watching Edward and Bella, who are at their own table again.

There really is like this bubble around them. They're talking low and occasionally smiling shyly at each other, both of them leaning across the table like they wish the wood between them would just disappear. The rest of the world doesn't exist for them because they're so wrapped up in each other. Bella keeps curling her hair around her fingers, and Edward keeps reaching his hand across the table like he wants to touch her but always draws back at the last moment.

I roll my eyes. Next they'll be serenaded by a fat Italian with an accordion singing "That's Amore" while unicorns shitting butterflies trot by their table. Angela keeps sneaking glances over there, though, and I can see the tenderness in her eyes. Would she be quite so swoony if she knew what he was? I think not.

At the end of lunch, Alice drags Edward away, and the two of them head for the parking lot. Another unfair perk of being a vampire: you never have to go to class unless you want to. I suppose they just pick the exam answers right out of the teachers' heads.

Biology is next, and I sit two tables back from where Bella and Edward sit. Edward isn't there, though, and I can see Bella keeps glancing over at his seat like she wishes he was. I make a point of catching up with Bella as we're leaving class. Maybe now that he's gone, she'll wake up from the spell he's cast over her.

"Hey, Bella," I call to her just outside the class room.

She turns, clutching her books to her chest. "Yes, Eric?"

"What are you up to this weekend?"

Her eyes become guarded. "Oh, I don't know. Why?"

I come up close to her. She does have these beautiful brown eyes, wide and thickly-lashed. She's the kind of girl that normally your eyes just slide right over; nothing really sticks out about her. It's not like she has a huge rack or anything. But then when you take a second look at her, you realize she's pretty−hell, she's even beautiful. Her skin is perfect. "You could hang out with us," I offer hopefully.

"Thanks, but I've got some things I need to do," she says, turning away. I put my hand on her arm to stop her.

"You're going to be with _him_," I guess. The blush that rises on her face only confirms it.

She raises her chin, though, and draws herself up straight. I bet she can be stubborn when she wants. "Edward is the best thing that's ever happened to me," she says quietly with a mature, calm dignity. There is unquestioned certainty in her voice. The high school student has faded away and a _woman_ stands before me.

I'm surprised by this confession, but suddenly her brave front collapses. She slouches, and her shoulders give a little shake. "He's, like, the_ only _thing that's ever happened to me," she says wryly. A-a-a-n-n-nd the teenage girl is back. "I'd do anything for him," she adds softly.

"Bella-" I say, but she shakes me off.

"I've got to get to gym," she says and hurries off down the hall. I watch her receding back, confused and conflicted.

Is it possible that she might even _love_ him? Could you really come to love the undead? It's obvious they can love each other, as evidenced by the pairing up of the Cullens. And I can't be certain that I'd say no if Rosalie attempted to seduce me. They might be cold, but still, that is one bodacious set of tits. But even I can tell the difference between love and, well, necrophilia.

Doubt starts to nag at me as I make my way to the last class of the day. Have I been misjudging the Cullens? It's been true that I've yet to see any victims. Although, they've as much admitted to me that they're vamps, I'm the only one who suspects anything. Well, except maybe Bella, and it doesn't seem to be slowing her down. But…they're vampires. Automatic evil, right?

After the last class of the day, I run by the cafeteria and snag the recorder I had taped to the underside of the Cullens' lunch table. Once the school has mostly emptied out, I go sit out on the lawn by the bike racks and switch it on.

There's a lot of rustling and noises of people walking by. I can hear what sounds like Mr. Sidarski cleaning the table, and he's mumbling about dirty kids and if he ran the school, by god, these brats would be cleaning up after themselves, yada yada. I skip past flashes of what must be the first lunch session. Do all freshman sound high and squeaky like cartoon characters on tape?

A few more taps on the fast-forward button, and I hear a chair scrape across the floor. "The meatloaf looks particularly nasty today," Rosalie says disgustedly. "I can't believe they eat this stuff." Damn that goddess. She even _sounds_ hot.

"Now, Rose," Jasper drawls. "There was probably a time when you would have liked it."

"I sincerely doubt that," Rosalie answers.

Emmett says something I can't quite catch, and there's some chuckling around the table. "So what's up this weekend?" he asks.

"Baseball," Alice says definitively. "Sunday. In the afternoon."

"Cool." That's Emmett. "Do we win?"

"That would be telling," Alice says primly.

"Where're you going with Edward?" That's Jasper's drawl.

"You're leaving?" Rose asks.

Emmett answers. "He needs to fill up if he's going to spend time with Miss Smell-Me-Eat-Me over there."

"We're going to head out by Wenatchee. We haven't been there in a while, and we can be home by morning." Alice answers.

I'll have to watch the headlines for any deaths in Wenatchee. It's gotta be maybe six hours away.

"Take care, darling," Jasper says. "Come home soon." There's a pause as I imagine them kissing.

"This is so ridiculous. _He _is so ridiculous," Rosalie complains. "It's not like this can go anywhere. What is he trying to accomplish?"

"He likes her," Emmett answers mildly.

"Give her a chance," Jasper suggests. "Maybe she can loosen him up a bit."

"Hmmpff," Rosalie grunts. "He has no business cavorting with a hu-" There's a sudden scrape and rustle. "Oww," she complains. "What was that for?"

More rustling follows and some whispering I can't make out, even with the volume turned way up high. I think they're on to me, somehow. I don't see how, though; the lunch tables have a lip that would make the hidden recorder almost impossible to stumble upon. The conversation turns completely innocuous, and then the confirmation comes as they get up and leave as evidenced by the scraping of chairs. "Goodbye, Eric," someone whispers and there follows a chorus of chuckles.

_Damn._

These vampires seem to have outsmarted me at every turn. It's a good thing I have help on the way.

Speaking of help, I wait anxiously for Solomon Kane of Vampire Hunters, Inc. to come on Saturday. I even pass up the opportunity to go stag to the Sadie Hawkins dance because I want to be sure to be home when he comes. I wonder intensely about what kind of person he'll be. Maybe he'll be like Anthony Hopkins in that vampire movie: old, chiseled and wary, or maybe Hugh Jackman−an Indiana Jones kind of guy.

Finally, about nine o'clock that night, a pair of headlights pull into the driveway. I jump out of the chair that I've been using to watch TV with my parents and head for the door.

"Who's that?" my mother calls as I open the front door.

"Just one of the guys," I say. "I'll be right back."

Out in the driveway, a 1980s Ford Econoline van is gasping and choking as it tries to shut down. Even in the dark, I can see that it's a beater; there's a dent in the door, and the front bumper is slightly askew. The figure in the front seat, though, I can see by the dim light is wearing one of those wide-brimmed hats like Jackman wore in _Van Helsing_, and my hopes rise.

I come around to the driver's door. The man inside rolls the window down and a cloud of cigar smoke and beer fumes roil out.

"Hey, kid," the man behind the wheel says in a dark, gravelly voice. "Is this the Yorkie house?"

"Yeah," I say. I stick my hand out. "I'm Eric Yorkie."

He takes my hand. "Solomon Kane. Nice to meet ya." We shake briefly. His hand is big and meaty and a little bit damp. "You got my money?"

"Right here." I pull a wad from my pocket and hand it to him.

He flips through it, counting it, and says, "Why don't you come have a seat?" He nods his head, indicating the passenger side seat. I run around the front of the van and pull open the side door. The interior light comes on, and I get my first good look at Solomon Kane.

He's old, maybe as old as my dad, and despite the Van Helsing hat, his appearance does not inspire a lot of confidence. He's big around the middle−his belly kind of lies in his lap−and he's wearing wrinkled khakis. He's got a cotton plaid shirt on, and it doesn't look like he's shaved in a couple of days. The van reeks of smoke and stale beer, and I have to kick empty beer cans, a vodka bottle, and empty cigarette packs aside to climb into the front seat of the van. He's starting to remind me more of Chris Farley−the guy who lives in his _van_ down by the _river−_than Van Helsing.

"So you're the kid with the …" He waves his hand.

"Vampires," I supply.

"Right. Vampires." He nods. "How many you think you got?"

"At least seven. There's a whole coven," I explained. "Most of them go to high school, but the leader is a doctor."

He looked over at me with skepticism and disbelief. "A doctor vampire?"

"Makes sense," I argue. "The blood bank is right there."

He pauses, thinking, and then shrugs. "Okay. What do you know about them?"

"They aren't bothered by garlic or holy water. Crucifixes make them laugh." He raises his eyebrows on that one. "They walk around during the day, and I think one of them is trying to seduce a local girl."

"Any drained victims?" he asks.

"Nobody yet around here. I'd know, too. My dad runs the funeral home."

"He does, huh? How long these vampires been in town?"

"Couple of years, more or less."

"Couple of years? And there's no victims? And they walk around during the day?" He frowns at me. "You sure you got vampires?"

"Oh, I'm sure. They as much as admitted it to me."

He looks askance at me. "What did they say?"

"Well, uh." I am trying to remember. They haven't really _said_ anything. "They just kind of told me to leave them alone."

"Hmm," he hums skeptically. He's got a very hairy foreman resting on the driving wheel.

"Oh, and they have yellow eyes," I add. "All of them, even though they claim to not be related."

"Yellow eyes?" he asks. "Most vampires I've seen have red ones."

"Have you seen a lot of vampires?" I ask, belatedly thinking that maybe I should have gotten some kind of resume from the guy.

"Oh, tons," he says, gesturing with his hand. "They're all over the place. You wouldn't believe how many I've snuffed out."

"Really?" I ask eagerly. "How many?"

"Um, lots." He shifts in his seat. "So, my accommodations?"

That's right. He said something about that in his email. "There's a Super 8 motel about four miles up 101."

"You got a reservation in my name?"

"Me? No. I don't have money for a motel."

"Well, I don't either." He looks at me expectantly. "Geez, kid. You drag me up here for barely gas money. You want me to help or not?"

So that's how Solomon Kane wound up sleeping in my bed while I roughed it in a sleeping bag on my floor. I told my parents he was a cousin of Mike's and the Newtons were having all kind of relatives over for some big family thing. They didn't have enough beds over at their house for all the relatives, so I'd offered to take him.

I had a feeling my mother didn't believe me, but with Solomon standing right behind me, she wasn't going to call me on it. Now I wish she had. He stinks, and he snores so loud it rattles the windows.

At least it covers up the werewolf howling.


	7. Chapter 7 Where The Battle Begins

_I'd like to thank the sharp eyes and red pens of Heather and Mac, and the encouraging words from Ty, Katy and Erin. You can drop the blame for any questionable judgement at my feet._

_

* * *

_

_The hardest part of being a vampire hunter is that no one believes in your work. Skepticism regarding the supernatural is rampant. Tell people God talks to you, and they'll believe you. Tell them you hang with vampires, and watch the scoffing begin. –_From _The __Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

(*)(*)(*)

_I'm standing stark naked on the front steps of the school. Kids are streaming by me on their way into the building, and I'm terrified someone is going to notice I don't have any clothes on. I've got my hands over my dick, and I'm praying nobody turns around to see my naked butt. _

_The sun passes behind a cloud, and it gets nighttime dark. I am stumbling down my driveway, trying to find my way in the darkness. The Cullens pull up next to me in a minivan. The side door slides open, and Bella holds out her hand, like she wants me to come inside. "Hey, Eric," she says in a low, gravelly voice._

_I want to jump inside the van. I know Bella needs me. "Come on, kid," she says, gesturing with her hand. She must be sick or something because her voice is so deep and raspy. But I can't see who or what else is in the van, and it's scaring me. I shake my head at her, and dejectedly, she closes the minivan door, and it pulls away. I try to call her name, to tell her to come back or to jump out of the van, but it's like I've been struck dumb. I can't make a sound. Rosalie appears next to me, all smiling and sexy and welcoming, until she speaks with that same gravelly voice Bella had. "Kid. Wake up."_

My eyes fly open, and Solomon Kane is standing above me. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Rise and shine." I roll over and groan. If I thought he smelled bad last night, he was a rose compared to this morning's aroma. The bathrooms at the Mariners' games after a double header smell better. "Sun's up," he growls. "Let's go catch them vampires."

I get dressed in the bathroom−no way I'm changing in front of him−and we head downstairs. I chow down a bowl of cereal as fast as I can while he accepts a cup of coffee from my mother. When she leaves the room, he takes a flask from his pocket and surreptitiously pours some of it into his coffee.

"What's that?" I ask around a mouthful of Sugar Pops.

"Vampire repellant," he says, smiling and saluting me with his cup.

_Yeah, right. Like he needs it with that smell. _After breakfast, we climb into his van. "Where to, kid?" he asks, fishing for his keys.

"The Cullen house is over in North Forks," I say. "Go back out to the highway and take a right."

This is so exciting. We're going into Vamptown; I feel like a fucking warrior. It occurs to me I should have a weapon. I turn to him as he inserts the key into the ignition. "My mom has a samurai sword. Maybe I should go get it." I'd probably have to sneak it out. It's a family heirloom that hangs in my parents' bedroom. But I've seen it unsheathed, and it's absolutely lethal-looking. It's a katana forged by Dotanuki, over four hundred years old. I've always dreamed of swishing it through the air. It's sharp enough to cut stone.

Solomon takes his hat off his head and rubs his forehead with his forearm. "May not be the wisest decision to go face them in their nest right off the bat. Is there someplace around town where we could scope them out a bit beforehand?"

He's probably right. It's just the two of us against the seven of them. "Well, Dr. Cullen might be at the hospital." I don't really know what the bunch of them do on weekends. It's not like it's a school day; then I'd know where they'd be. "They said something about baseball. I wonder if Bella knows anything. Maybe we should drop by her house."

"Bella?" he asks, smooshing the hat back on his head.

"The girl I told you about? The one Edward is enslaving?" For all I know, he's got her into some harem-esque Princess Leia slave outfit. Is it wrong that I fervently hope so?

"Oh, right." He turns the key, and with a grin, slaps the stick shift into reverse. "Then let's go see Bella."

We start bumping down the driveway. "You're sure these are vampires, right?" he asks me, glancing over. "I mean, I've never heard of seven of them living together. They usually prefer to wander by themselves or with a mate. Occasionally you'll see a threesome, but never more than that."

"I'm sure." I review everything I know in my mind. "I've seen speed, strength, athletic ability. There's the mind-reading, the hypnotism, the good looks_…" Rosalie's bodacious set of tits…_

"And they go out during the day? You've seen them in the sunshine?"

"Yeah," I say, but then I catch myself. Have I seen them in the sun? They're always out 'hiking' during the sunny days of school. "I've seen them all walking around during the day but maybe not in the sun."

Solomon pulls a ragged pack of Camels from his shirt pocket and lights one up. The window I've already rolled partway down for some relief against his sour smell goes down the rest of the way. I wonder if he actively cultivates that odor to ward off vampires because it's enough to knock small children off their feet.

But I have to know what kind of weapons he does have. "Tell me, what do you use to, ah, off them?"

He takes a drag off his cigarette. "What? You mean the vampires?"

I nod, my mouth suddenly dry. We're talking about the death of people I know, people in my school. Well, maybe not people, but creatures or beings, at least.

"See the stakes?" He points a thumb towards the back of the van, which is a jumbled mess of clothes, tools and empty beer cans. There's even a leaking bean bag chair back there, which I am guessing serves as the back seat. But clattering against the inside wall of the van I see a set of what looks like white pickets torn out of somebody's garden fence. "Hit 'em with that in the chest, and they turn to ashes," he says with conviction.

"Really?" They're wooden stakes, so that falls in line with legend. I have doubts though; everything else about the Cullens has refused to fit into the classic mythology of vampires.

He sneaks a glance at me out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, yeah. Done it a thousand times."

I frown. That sounds like it's for the kind of vampires you'd find in _Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, _not the kind actually walking around in Forks. I try to picture Rosalie with a stake in her chest, and it makes my stomach squirm. Crap, I can't even picture Edward like that without getting slightly queasy, and I don't even particularly like him. On the other hand, Jasper looks right at home that way.

I go to say something when I realize I see Bella's old clunker pass us going the opposite way. Edward's driving, and Bella's on the passenger side with her arm resting out the window.

"Wait! That's them!" I yell, trying to keep an eye on them in the rearview mirror. "They just passed us. Turn around."

Solomon manhandles his Econoline into doing a three point u-turn while it squeals in complaint, coughing and sputtering. This is like a slow motion car chase; it's about as exciting as watching grandmothers chase each other around a bingo table.

"Give us plenty of distance," I say. "I think Edward can read minds."

"We'll stay well back then. Try not to think about them."

We drive for thirty seconds. How can you _not_ think about something? My mind keeps going back to why we're doing this and vampires, vampires, vampires. "Can we put on the radio or something?"

"Sure." He reaches over and fiddles with the knobs. The static slides into a Chemical Romance tune. Cool song, until I realize the song that's playing is _Vampires Will Never Hurt You_.

"Ah, maybe something else," I say, reaching for the knobs. I tune into the indie station from Port Angeles. Jesus Christ, it's that Bauhaus tune about Bela Lugosi. I spin the knobs again. This is ridiculous. It's that Warren Zevon tune. I'm ready to give the knob another savage yank when Solomon cries, "Wait!"

I freeze, thinking something has happened with Bella's truck, but way up ahead it's chugging along at a sedate forty-five miles per hour.

Solomon hits the volume and sings along. "_Little old lady got mutilated late last night. Werewolves of London again." _He sings as good as he smells.

We ride along one-oh-one, staying well back from Bella's truck, when it takes a turn onto an unpaved road. "They must be headed over Edward's," I say. "That goes to the Cullens."

"Anything else down that road?" Solomon growls.

"I don't think so."

"Does it connect with any other routes?"

"No," I answer. "There's nothing but national park for miles."

"Well, what goes in must come out," he says. "We'll wait for them to come back out. Then maybe we can go after them one by one."

We pull off of one-oh-one, and Solomon finds a place to park the van in between the trees. We edge backwards through some bushes for a bit of camouflage, but we can still see the end of the dirt driveway. He turns off the engine, settles back in his seat and pulls his hat over his face. "Keep an eye on that road and wake me if you hear anything."

I sit up straight, keeping watch like I'm guarding the Louvre, and the Mona Lisa's been threatened. Occasionally a car drives by. I hope Bella is okay, and the damn vamps aren't munching on her while we just sit here. I have a pretty good idea what Edward wants from her, and I bet she's going to be walking stiffly again come Monday. I remember how Emmett and Jasper scoffed at the idea that Edward was screwing Bella. I have to hand it to them; it was a brilliant attempt at mis-direction. _Everybody_ knows vamps are over-sexed libertines.

It's actually a nice spring day. The sun is out, at least intermittently, and the birds are chirping. A rabbit hops across the road. Some squirrels chase each other around the trees. I hang my head out the window, escaping at least some of Solomon's sour smell. It's been maybe an hour when I hear the faint rhythmic sound of footsteps crunching through the leaves on our right, deeper in the woods. Instantly I'm on guard.

One of the Quileutes, the big one called Sam, is following a deer track maybe a hundred yards away. He's walking with his head down, not paying much attention, and I don't think he's seen us. He's naked. Now why you'd want to wander around naked in these woods is beyond me. I can only imagine the horror of getting a bunch of mosquito bites on your dick. It'd probably make it all swell up.

Hmmm. That might be a good thing. Make your dick look bigger. Girls like monster dicks, right? I file this idea away in my mental "inventions" category. In addition to a game designer, I also plan on being an inventor. And a sure-fire way of enlarging your dick would probably rival the invention of the PC for money-making opportunities. It's really not that hard a stretch to see me kicking back with people like Bill Gates and Dean Kamen. What I can see of Sam though, it doesn't seem like he'd have too much need of an invention like that. Still, between the insects and the branches reaching out to snag something precious, running around naked doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Is he drunk? Have the Quileutes become nudists? Is this some secret Indian initiation rite? The only person stupid enough to wander around naked in these woods is one who had to have lost his clothes… Suddenly, I flash back to the shredded clothes I'd seen over by my grandparents' house.

Werewolf. It has to be him. And where there's one werewolf there have to be more.

Don't wolves usually run in packs? The whole damn Quileute tribe could be a bunch of werewolves. It makes perfect sense. All those bonfires the tribe sponsor, the way they stick to themselves.

Sam follows the forest path, his shoulders slumped. He's must be tired from running around the whole night. Well, now I feel stupid. Back when I was talking to Colin on First Beach, he was likely just yanking my chain. He knew all along what was going down. How can you be a werewolf and not know vampires are around? Don't these supernatural creatures all protect each other's backs?

My mind races with the implications. Indians. All of them. The whole tribe's gotta be in on this. I wonder if the girls are werewolves, too. Why not? Gotta make puppies to keep the bloodlines going, right? What about that guy, Jacob's father−the one in the wheelchair? I bet he uses one of those little doggie wheelchairs, the kind that just supports the hind quarters, like a little cart with wheels.

All of a sudden, Sam stops. He raises his face to the wind, sniffing the air. I hold my breath; has he smelled us? But no, he looks across the road where Bella's truck had gone. I can hear a rumble coming out his chest. My jaw literally drops as he shimmers and shakes, and two seconds later, a huge, ginormous motherfucking wolf stands where Sam was.

"Holy shit," I gasp. This wolf is huge, like horse huge. His ears prick up; he looks toward where our van is, and I freeze. Then with a wave of his huge bushy tail, he bounds into the forest and disappears. You know, it really is amazing how accurate I have been about the supernatural creatures overrunning Forks.

"Solomon." I reach over and poke his shoulder. "Wake up. A werewolf just came by."

"Huh? What?" he says, pulling his hat off.

"Werewolf. Just took off thataway."

"Werewolf?" he asks, scratching his neck. "I thought we were doing vampires."

"We are, but apparently there're werewolves around here too."

"Well, I gotta charge extra if we're doing werewolves, too."

I don't have any more money to give him. "Okay. Maybe I can deal with the werewolves later. But we need to do something. We're getting nowhere just sitting here."

"All right," he says, firing up the van. "Let's go see if we can find the rest of these vampires."

We spend most of the day driving around town. We follow Jasper's Camaro when we come across it as he and Emmett hit the True Value hardware store. Solomon pulls the van over a bit down the street.

"That's two of them?" he asks as we sit in the van watching them cross the street towards the store.

"Yeah," I answer. "Jasper and Emmett. Emmett's the big one."

"They look pretty normal to me," he says skeptically.

"Of course they do. That's the whole idea; get everybody to accept you and then, bam!" I slap my fist into my hand. "The havoc begins."

We follow them when they leave the store, but we lose them in the mild traffic of Forks. Score one for the Camaro versus Solomon's bitching rig. Why is it the bad guys always get the coolest cars?

It isn't until the afternoon when we spy Emmett's jeep coming from the direction of Bella's house. "There they are," I say, spotting Edward and Bella in the front seat. "That's Emmett's jeep." I look over at Solomon. "This time we're gonna follow them all the way." No more of this crapping out and waiting, I decide. We've been doing that all day, and it hasn't gotten us anywhere.

They take a dirt road not far off of the highway. This time we creep up the road, pausing every now and then until we can't hear the jeep anymore, and then we park.

I get out of the van and look around. It's nearing dusk, and under the trees it's pretty dark. We can hear the far off booming and rumbling of thunder. Solomon gets out and goes to the back of the van, opens the door and grabs some items out of the back. When he closes the door, I can see he's got the picket fence stakes in his hand. It makes me swallow hard.

Solomon is obviously not a physical fitness enthusiast; twenty minutes into the hiking, he's sweating and starting to turn red. A few more minutes pass as we follow the trail, and he sits down on a log. "Hold on a minute, kid," he pants. "Give me a chance to catch my breath."

"Come on," I insist. "We're going to lose them."

His head is hanging down as he gasps for air. "Tell you what. Why don't you go scouting ahead and come back for me in a few minutes?"

"Okay," I agree, eager to catch up with Edward and Bella. "I'll be right back."

I follow the path up a bit. It seems like the thunder is getting closer. There are some sharp cracks of noise that don't seem to correspond with any lightning.

I'm getting closer to a large clearing; I can see the light start to grow beyond the tree line, and Emmett's jeep is parked nearby. I turn back to go tell Solomon, and I'm nearing where I left him when I hear some serious bush rattling. "Solomon?" I call. "You okay?" I ask, picking up speed.

"Oof. Ha! Stay back, Eric!" he calls from the center of a thicket. There's some loud grunting and then a couple sharp whacks. "I got one!"

Got one? I push through the bushes. There's one of those picket fence stakes in the ground, and it's covered by a puddle of ashes.

Solomon is wiping his forehead with his arm. "One of them attacked me. Lucky I had my stakes handy."

"What are you talking about?" I ask in utter confusion.

"A vampire came at me, so I staked it. See? It turned into ashes." He points at a grey pile on the ground.

It's getting pretty dark, but I bend down to look at the ashes. They're all grey and powdery, still settling in the light breeze that's ruffling the branches.

I glance up at him; he's standing with his hands on his hips. One of his hands is all gray, and there's a big lump in his pants pocket. I look back down at the ground. There's a freaking cigarette butt mixed in the ashes. "What the hell…?" I pick the butt up gingerly. Sure enough, it's a Camel.

I stand up. Suspicion washes over me. "What's in your pocket?"

"Listen, kid. I just saved you from a vampire."

"Shut up!" I yell. All of my frustrations and worry are coming to a head. "Show me what's in your pocket."

"Jesus, we've just been-"

"Stop it!" I roar. Finally, I've got his attention. He's standing and staring at me. "Your pocket. Now."

Shamefacedly, he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a crumpled, lunch-size, brown paper bag.

"Give that to me," I snarl and snatch it out of his hand. I look inside. It's obviously the remains of someone's ashtray, a dirt grey pile of ashes littered with cigarette butts.

"Hey, listen, I was just trying−," he starts placatingly.

"Just trying what? To con me? Christ!" I throw the bag of ashes on the ground in disgust. "What, do you think I'm joking around here?" What an asshole. I can't believe I paid two hundred dollars for this. "I've got fucking vampires running around my home town, and you're playing games?" I'm really shouting now.

He starts shouting back. "Of course, it's a game! What do you think-we're serious?"

"We better be! Vampires are running around Forks, and you're -"

"Grow up, kid. There's no such thing as vampires!"

I stare at him in utter disbelief and frustration. He hitches up his pants, which are on the verge of sliding down right off his legs, having long ago given up the fight to try to cover his massive belly. We glare at each other, caught in an impasse.

From behind my left shoulder, a silken, feminine voice carries. "What's all this talk about vampires?"

I whirl around. There's a woman I've never seen before standing at the crest of a nearby rise. She's got brilliant red hair, and she's barefoot. Even in the deepening dusk, I can see a flash of crimson in her eyes. She's pretty in a scary, feral kind of way. Her skin is pale and unmarked, but she's got twigs and bits of leaves stuck in her flame-colored hair. Her eyes hold all the mercy and empathy you'd see in the eyes of a jungle cat, which is to say, none. I'm so surprised I can't think of anything to say.

"What do we have here?" She takes a sniff, tasting the air. In the blink of an eye she moves from the top of the crest, which is maybe fifteen yards away, to right beside us. Solomon takes a step back, he is so shocked.

"Hunting vampires, huh?" she purrs, circling us. "How's that going for you?"

My instincts are screaming at me to run. This woman has taken the air of menace the Cullens try to hide and amped it up by a thousand. The hair on the back of my neck is standing straight up, and I can see Solomon's eyes are getting very wide. Maybe now he'll get a clue. She glances at me out of the side of her eyes as she passes behind Solomon, and her red eyes promise death. I have no doubt-this is a vampire. _A really ferocious vampire_. She looks Solomon up and down. "Mmm, juicy," she murmurs.

She moves instantaneously from our left to behind my right shoulder. She runs her nose just above the back of my shirt. "Fragrant," she whispers menacingly.

I have no idea what to do. I'm scared if I start running, her predator instincts will kick in, and she'll chase after me. What do the survivalists say? Attacked by bees? Run. By bears? Play dead. Nobody has any survival tips for encounters with vampires. Solomon obviously has no clue either. I can only hope as the bigger man, he'd be the more attractive meal. But then my heart sinks, because _Solomon _and _attractive_ don't belong anywhere near each other.

From out of nowhere, Solomon pulls a gun. I don't know if it was in a pocket or his waistband, but his hand is shaking as he points it at the female. "You leave m-m-me alone," he stutters.

Leave _me_? Uh, I believe the _polite_ thing to say would be, "leave _us _alone." I should be in fear for my life, but I can't even believe what a shithead this guy has turned out to be. At least maybe now he'll believe in freaking vampires.

"Oh, fatso," she says, shaking her head. "Go ahead and shoot."

"I will," he says, backing away. "I swear to God."

Fearlessly, she steps forward as he steps backward, pacing him. "Come on. I dare you."

With a grimace, he pulls the trigger and the gun goes off. I close my eyes and turn my head, afraid to look. The shot echoes in the forest, ringing through the trees, the fading to an eerie silence. I look up and nobody's moved. A wisp of smoke rises from the barrel of the gun. Then she turns her hand up, and in the palm of her hand is a bullet. _She caught the fucking bullet._

A wicked, nasty smile spreads across her face like an oil stain. Her red eyes almost start to glow, and a rumbling, animalistic growl starts to emanate from her. Crouching like a tiger preparing to spring, she takes another step toward Solomon, who is now paralyzed in fear.

I, however, am totally pissed. Maybe it's because I've been threatened too often by vampires lately, but all this−it's like too much. When is it going to end? I'm just getting tired of these vampire games.

I pull the crucifix out of my shirt. "Hey, lady," I yell as she advances on Solomon, who is absolutely terrified. There is a wet stain growing in the crotch of his khakis.

I wave the crucifix at her. She straightens up from her crouch and looks at me. Her shoulders shake once, and then she giggles. I shake the crucifix again, and she starts giggling louder and louder. "Oh, you have got to be kidding," she says, laughing. It's the crucifix; I swear it's like laughing magic.

Suddenly, her head whips around. "Victoria!" a male voice calls sharply. A male with sandy-colored hair dressed in hiking clothes is standing on the rise. "What are you doing?" he barks. "She's going to get away. Let's go!" he demands.

She glances back at the rise, the merest shadow of resentment crossing her face. "Gotta run, boys. We've got a pet to catch," she whispers. Her face stretches in a crocodile smile. "Later." A moment later, they're both gone; the only trace of their passing is the swirling of leaves.

Gradually, the leaves settle to the ground. Solomon looks at me, dumbfounded. _Useless. Absolutely useless. _We've lost Edward and Bella's trail for sure. "Come on, let's get back to the van," I say, resigned to missing them again. "We should probably leave. Those two may be back."

Solomon jumps when I say they may be back, and then he starts running back towards the van, crashing through the bushes like a runaway bull. I take off after him, and it's easy to keep up despite the fact he's going as fast as he can. He starts huffing and puffing soon enough, but suddenly he slides, tripping over something on the ground and falls to the forest floor.

I go and grab his arm to help him up. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he pants. "I slipped in something." He looks back to his feet. That's when a wave of horrific odor rolls over us. His loafer is covered in the biggest pile of dog shit I have ever seen.

"What is that?" he says, horrified and finally smelling something worse than himself.

There's only one canine I've seen big enough to make a pile that big. "I'm pretty sure that's werewolf shit."

He looks at me with a wild look in his eyes, and I can tell he's a man on the edge. He gets up off the ground, and his shoe and shin are smeared with shit. He takes off again, jogging back to the van.

We arrive at the van, and he grabs a rag from the back, wiping his soiled leg before jumping in the driver's seat.

"So where to now?" I ask as I clamber in the passenger side.

"Shut up," he says. "Don't say a word." His face is stern and set.

_Well, okay. W_e ride back to my parent's house in silence. He pulls up to the front door and says, "Get out."

He hasn't turned off the van. I open the door, slide out and pause. "Aren't you coming?" I ask with my hand on the door.

"I'm out of here," he says, shaking his head.

"Out of here?" I can't believe he's going to run. "You're supposed to help me get rid of the vampires."

"This is _way_ too fucked up for me," he growls, shaking his head. "You're on your own."

"But−but I paid you two hundred dollars," I sputter.

"Forget it, kid." He takes a wad of cash out of his pocket and throws it at me. It flutters to the ground at my feet. "You need more help than I can give you."

"Coward," I mutter, slamming the door shut.

"Try the Vatican," he yells through the open window as he drives away.

_Yeah, sure._ I bet they're just waiting for my call. I pick up the wadded bills as his single tail light disappears down the driveway. I sigh as I turn toward the front door.

I don't think Van Helsing had to put up with this shit.

* * *

Thank you to all my readers and to my reviewers, bunches of flowers.


	8. Chapter 8 Where Things Get Serious

_A/N I got a bit behind on my review replies this chapter, if I didn't respond to yours, please forgive me, RL got away from me. Please know that I read (and re-read) them all. _

_We'll be posting regularly until the end. _

_

* * *

__Don't think because they're quiet and friendly that vampires might be harmless. Their evil will strike when you least expect it. –_From _The __Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

(*)(*)(*)

I get up the next morning thinking, _Well, it's official. Forks is being overrun by vampires._ We've got one resident coven, and more vampires are arriving as evidenced by the redhead and her boyfriend of last night. How do I warn people? How do I get them to believe me? I'm the only one in the whole town aware of the danger.

I look at myself in the mirror as I'm trying to get my bangs to fall right. My mother made me get a haircut last week, and it screwed the wave all up. I suppose you have to be a vampire to have perfect hair. Except if you're Jasper. He's had some weird dos; like, I don't even know what's going on with his hair.

I keep combing at the bangs with my fingers, willing my hair to behave. It certainly would be great to have allies because I'm not going to be able to take out all the vampires by myself. Christ, what a waste of time _Vampire Hunters_ turned out to be. Solomon Kane−what a joke. Seeing him slip in that werewolf shit, though, was almost worth the hassle.

How can I trip up the Cullens and make them expose themselves? My eyes fall on the Swiss army knife that I keep on my dresser. There's one way I can think of, but it involves considerable sacrifice on my part, so I'll stash that idea away for the time being.

In the meantime, the new vampires streaming into town are a definite threat. That redhead was bad business, for sure. Hot, yes, but evil, distinctly evil. How many more vampires are going to be showing up? Are they going to have some kind of bloodsuckers' convention here? _Forks, Home of the Undead. Need a bite? Come to Forks._ I look into the mirror with my steeliest expression. _Not while I'm alive._

I head downstairs for breakfast. Danny's already at the table while Mom's putting together eggs and toast. I give Danny a hug and get a toothy grin from him. "Good morning, Eric," he says, smiling widely.

"Good morning, pal," I say as I grab the Cheerios. I need to warn my mother somehow. "Mom, be sure and keep Danny out of the woods. I heard Chief Swan say there's been talk of wolves around the woods." Not true, but she needs some reason, and there _are _werewolves around.

"Of course." She turns around to point a spoon at me. "You stay out of there, too. The radio says there's a fire up by the Calawah River fork."

I wasn't too far from there last night, and I wonder if those new vampires had anything to do with it. When I get to school, everybody's buzzing about the forest fire. Tyler is giving odds that it turns into a disaster like the big fire of 1951 where they evacuated the whole town. Mike, for one, is praying we're evacuated, as our Medieval project is due on Thursday, and he hasn't even started.

Personally, I'm betting on the redhead and her boyfriend; the fire started not far from where we ran across them, and you could tell those vamps were bad-ass. I'm not too surprised when the Cullens aren't in school. They're probably all out worshipping Satan or something with the new vamps. Maybe they're even giving the goth kids in Port Angeles a thrill by showing up in their parents' basement hang-outs. It was a sunny day, so they wouldn't have shown up regardless. But it isn't until lunch that I realize Bella isn't in school either.

I sit down at our usual table where Ben, Angela and Jessica are already scarfing down their lunch. It strikes me, as I watch, them how clueless they are. This past weekend they went to a dance, and I went vampire hunting. Maybe not successfully, but still, it makes me feel a million years old. It's tough carrying the weight of these secrets. "Where's Bella?" I ask, surprised she isn't around.

"She didn't come to school this morning," Angela says, picking at her salad. "Here, you want this?" she asks Ben, shoving her pudding his way.

"Sure," Ben says, accepting it eagerly.

My stomach sinks at the news that Bella's not here. "Is she sick? Did you speak to her?" I ask.

"I called her yesterday afternoon," Jessica says, running her spoon around the dessert cup. "She sounded fine to me." That would have been before Edward lured her into the woods.

"Has anyone spoken to her since?" There is a note of desperation in my voice that even Ben picks up on. Yesterday, Edward took Bella where the deadliest sort of vampires were. I hope to Christ the forest fire wasn't created from some kind of sacrificial rite, but it makes so much sense. The only thing that could convince me otherwise is seeing Bella herself, whole and sane. Well, mostly sane. Having a vampire boyfriend shouldn't really get you nominated for the Mental Health Hall of Fame.

The three of them exchange glances with each other. Jessica scoffs. "She probably didn't feel like coming today. Maybe she's going hiking with the Cullens." There's an unmistakable note of bitterness in Jessica's voice. I can barely control my eye-roll; she should be counting her frigging blessings that she's not involved with the Cullens.

Angela, ever the peacemaker, speaks up. "Or maybe she just doesn't feel good."

Carrying a tray, Mike straddles a chair. "Who doesn't feel good?" He sets the tray on the table and starts opening the first of three milk cartons.

"Bella's not here today," Ben explains.

"She's not?" Mike asks. "Let's give her a call and see how she is then." He whips out a cell phone from his pocket and starts dialing a number.

"She doesn't have a cell phone, you know," Jessica says, barely able to hide her jealously that Mike is calling Bella.

Mike holds his phone away from his ear. "I'm calling their house."

Jessica sits back in her chair sulkily while Ben shrugs. "She's sick. What's the big deal?"

"I don't think she's sick," I say in a low voice.

"Well, what _do_ you think?" Ben asks, matching my conspiratorial tone.

"I think the Cullens made her disappear," I say, unwilling to insinuate more until I know I won't be laughed at. For a moment, I wish that redheaded vampire chick would show up at school and change a few minds about what is and what is not realistic. This would certainly be easier if vampires were just a little more cooperative in proving their existence.

"No answer at their house," Mike says, snapping his cell phone shut.

"What are you talking about, Eric?" Angela asks, genuinely perplexed.

"Yeah, what the hell are you talking about?" Mike demands.

Around the table, four sets of eyes want answers from me. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Listen, you guys. I just don't think the Cullens are the people next door everyone thinks they are."

"No shit, they're as freaky as they come," Ben says, but I can tell none of them are buying the idea that the Cullens might have anything to do with Bella being gone. People will not believe the evidence right in front of their eyes until it smacks them across the face."But saying they did something to Bella, well, that's a pretty hefty accusation."

"You're going to accuse Doctor Cullen?" Angela asks, frowning in concern. "But he's a _doctor._"

Ben reaches across the table to lay his hand on my forehead. "He doesn't feel feverish," he jokes as I slap his hand away.

Mike takes a big bite out of his sandwich. "You, my friend," he says, pointing his sandwich at me, "have been watching too much Scooby-Doo."

A chorus of laughter breaks out. I know when I'm fighting a losing battle, but I have to make one more attempt. "So, then where is she?" I demand, speaking of Bella.

"Probably at home on the sofa," Jessica says dismissively before the subject moves on to the fight Tyler and Adam had gotten into at the Sadie Hawkins dance.

Later as we're leaving the cafeteria, Angela comes up behind me. "I'll call the Swans tonight, Eric," she says sympathetically. "Charlie will be home then, if Bella won't pick up."

I look deep into her eyes. There isn't any taunting in them. "Thanks. I just…" I trail off, uncertain how to say scared I am for Bella without seeming wimpy.

Angela puts her hand on my arm. "You're a good friend, Eric."

I am a good friend. Not good enough, though.

(*)(*)(*)

Angela meets me in the parking lot on Tuesday morning. "I spoke to Charlie Swan last night," she tells me as we walk slowly toward the school.

"What did he say?" I ask.

"He said Bella came home Sunday yelling about what a jerk Edward Cullen was and how she was going to move back to Phoenix. She threw some things in her truck and took off."

I look at her, astonished. "And he let her? The Chief of Police just lets his seventeen-year-old daughter get in a shitbox truck to drive across country on a freaking whim?"

"I know," she says, frowning. "He doesn't seem like a very responsible father, does he?"

There's an understatement. Cripes, if I got in a truck to drive across country on a freaking whim, my parents would have such a cow, we'd be eating beef for a year. No wonder Bella fell under a vampire spell; she was probably starved for male attention. I wonder if he even looked up from the basketball game as she was headed out the door. But it certainly seems like a ballsy thing for Bella to do, uncharacteristically so. "Do you really think she would do something like that?"

"Bella's pretty independent, but that's pretty radical, even for her," she says, concerned.

"It just doesn't make sense," I say, trying to puzzle it out. Angela takes off for class, but I linger a bit longer in the courtyard trying to figure this out. Bella and Edward are getting tight, and the Cullen family wants it to happen−I remember what Emmett and Jasper said in the bathroom. Then there was what Bella said herself when I confronted her after Biology on Friday. _"I'd do anything for him."_

Would that include lying to her father and taking off so she could become his meal? Lover? Queen? Any or all of the above? Sure, it would. Just like that Dracula movie, Bella can play Winona Ryder to Edward's Gary Oldman. I can see him in a top hat and blue glasses. He'll just need to grow his fingernails out.

So, it has started. The disappearances have begun. How long before whoever is next vanishes?

Up to this point, I have been treating this like a game; me versus the Cullens. Sure, they were vampires, and somehow I was going to out them. The driving around town with Solomon was just spitting into the wind; even he didn't take it seriously. It was like playing in a video game−you keep trying, and then if you lose, you just come back with another life. No big deal.

But things have just gotten serious. Serious and possibly deadly. For all my suspicions about the Cullens, half of me liked that it might be true just for the sheer excitement, but part of me never entirely, deeply, down in my soul, believed it. Having vamps in Forks would have been the most sensational thing that's ever happened in this boring, rainy, dull neck of the woods. Talk about it being out of character; hell, it would have broken the monotony and brought some glamour, some life to what is basically just another small, sleepy town in America. I wanted to race around Forks with a crossbow like some hero in a comic or movie. Foolish kid that I was, I _wanted_ it to be true.

But there was also a large corner of my heart that doubted, at least for a while. There had been a part of me that was hoping it wouldn't really be true, that instead of something evil like vampires, the Cullens were superheroes or angels or something spectacular. But now I realize how stupid I've been.

There are vampires in Forks, and this is not just a child's game anymore.

There is evil, and people will be killed.

I can't do this alone.

The next day after school, I ride my bike over to the funeral home. I find my dad in the office doing paperwork, his tie loosened and his suit jacket over the back of his chair.

He looks up as I close the door behind me. "Hey, son."

"Hi, Dad." I sit down in the seat across from his desk and clasp my hands.

He looks at me for a moment, then leans back in his chair. He's getting slightly gray around his temples; it stands out from the brown of the rest of his hair. I've never really noticed the gray before, and it hits me: he's getting older. He's always seemed impossible strong and confident, helping the grieving families deal with their loss. I see now he's vulnerable in a way I'd never realized before, that he's not immune to time, and one day in the future he won't be here. It makes me uncomfortable, and something in my belly does a flip.

He's always given me time to express myself. He is slow and deliberate in his speech, a good quality for a funeral director, I suppose. He sighs. "Nice day out there."

"Yeah," I say, wondering how I can tell him what I've come to say.

He gets out of his chair and walks over to the windows, peering through the blinds. "One time we could use rain, and it's nowhere to be found."

I look at him, uncomprehending.

"Rain? The fire out by the Calawah?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Oh, right." My eyes fall to the floor; the rug is brown and gold with specks of blue in it.

He comes back to his chair, sits in it and rubs the wooden arms with his hands. "So, what's on your mind?"

I glance briefly at him before gazing back at the floor. "I think something bad has happened to Bella."

"Bella? Bella Swan? Charlie's daughter?"

I nodded, trying to swallow the large lump stuck in my throat.

"What makes you think that?"

"She's gone, and the Cullens haven't been around. She was with them Sunday night, but now she's not in school."

"What do you mean, she's gone? And the Cullens? Why would they have anything to do with it?"

Tears start to form in my eyes. "Oh, Dad. The Cullens are not who everybody thinks they are."

It's time to 'fess up, and I know it. It starts to all come out in a rush. "That guy who spent the night with us? He's not Mike's cousin. He's a vampire hunter−well, he was supposed to be, but he was a big fake−he didn't even believe there were vampires until we ran across them in the woods−and then he all got pissed off when he stepped in the werewolf crap, and he ran off 'cause it was too scary even for him. No one believes me, but the Cullens are vampires, I know it, and I'm sure they've taken Bella." I stop for breath and swipe at my eyes. God, I'm such a tool. If only I'd acted earlier, more forcefully, Bella would be here.

My father is looking at me like he wants to believe me, but he can't trust what he's hearing. "You think the Cullens are vampires? You think they've hurt Bella?"

I nod with my chin trembling. "I know it sounds crazy, but something is wrong, terribly wrong."

My father comes around the desk, and I stand to meet him. He gathers me in his arms like I'm a child, and his arms around me have never felt more comforting, more real. I hold on to his waist with all my might and press my head against his chest. I've never loved him more than I do right now, and I am so relieved to stop carrying this secret alone and to tell him.

"It's okay, Eric," he murmurs. "It's going to be okay."

_I really hope so. _

The next day after dinner, he pulls me aside. "I want you to know I spoke with Charlie Swan this afternoon."

"What did he say?"

"He said Bella was hurt, but she's in the hospital in Phoenix, and she's going to be okay."

"Is she hurt bad? How?"

"She fell down some stairs and through a window. Broke an arm and some ribs. Her mother is flying in to be with her. Edward and Dr. Cullen were already down there, trying to convince her to come back to Forks."

My heart sinks as I search his face and realize he doesn't believe what I'd told him. He's looking at me, and I can tell he's a bit scared. But it's not because he's worried about the Cullens being monsters; he's worried his son is. He puts a hand on my shoulder, peering into my face. "You can't honestly believe the Cullens−Doctor Cullen−would hurt Bella?"

"Dad," I plead. "I don't know what to believe, but some really strange things have been happening, and these weird people are coming into town and−"

"Eric. Bella had an accident. These things happen all the time."

"But, you haven't seen−"

His eyebrows turn down, and I can tell he's nearing his limit. "That's enough. This fascination with vampires has gone on too long."

"Dad!" I plead. "You don't realize the danger we're in−the whole town. They could be back at any moment!"

"Stop it! You've lied to your mother and me, and for what? A sci-fi fantasy? Another one of your games?" I hate the look in his eyes. He's so disappointed in me, but he's worried for me too. "No computer for you this next week, and you're grounded this weekend."

"No," I say, shaking my head. Tears are starting to form in my eyes. "I swear, it's all true. Give me a chance to prove it."

"No computer," he repeats. "I'll be taking the power cord."

"This is so unfair!" I yell to his back as he heads out of the room.

"And no working on that-" he waves his hand, "vampire game thing." He shoots me a look before he leaves.

Now I _know _Van Helsing didn't have to put up with this shit.

(*)(*)(*)

The weekend comes and goes while I mope around the house. Sunday comes, and I go to Newton's store with my mother. I'm surprised by the traffic there. Firefighter groups from around the state and even farther are coming in; the fire seems to be a bigger deal than I thought. Clusters of men in groups of three and four are browsing the aisles, debating purchases and hitting the bakery counter. I even hear a strong Southern accent in one group. Occasionally when the wind blows the right way, you can get a whiff of wood smoke.

We leave Newton's after getting the stuff my Mom needs. Danny is pushing the cart out to the car, and Mom and I are trailing him when I see Jasper's Camaro pull into the parking lot. Jasper, Alice, and Esme get out, talking and laughing with each other as they walk toward the store.

Jasper catches my eyes, nods and grins. He nudges Esme and Alice. They smile and wave, but I just turn away and keep walking. So the Cullens are back from wherever they went. It would have been too much to hope that they're moving the coven elsewhere when there're still so many unsuspecting souls in Forks to dine on. I watch Jasper's back as he escorts the two ladies into the store. At the last minute, he grins wickedly at me over his shoulder before going through the automatic doors. Yeah, I can just see him nomming on somebody like Mrs. Cole.

"Eric! When you going to learn to pay attention?" My mother's yelling at me. "Put the bags in the back, please."

"Sure, Mom." I sigh as I grab the bags. Someday. Someday, they'll all know I was right.

It's on Monday that the hammer hits home. The worst happens−the beginning of the event that totally changes the course of my life. And it strikes at my family in our most vulnerable spot.

Like any other day, I come home from school and throw my backpack by the door. There's a snack set out on the counter with a note from my mom that she had to go to Port Angeles, and my sister would be getting Danny. For the first hour or so, I use the solo time at home to dig out the power cord for my computer from my dad's desk and catch up on my Facebook and stuff. I put it back after a while, because I suspect people will be coming home soon, but five o'clock comes and goes, and no one shows up.

It isn't until almost six that my sister shows up. I wander out to the kitchen when she comes in.

"Hey, twerp," she says, grabbing a can from the refrigerator. "What's up?"

"Where's Danny?" I ask. She should have met him at the bus stop out on 101, where our dirt road meets the highway.

She freezes, and for the first time I see fear in her eyes. "Didn't you get my text?"

"What text? My phone's been lost for a week."

Her eyes get real big. "I texted you to get Danny. I promised rides for a week."

"I never got it," I whisper.

The two of us stare at each other, shocked into stillness. Danny is missing.

"Check the road," Jen says, and the two of us are running out of the door, down the steps and along the road. I don't want to stop and think about what might have happened to him; I just need to have him back home now.

"Danny! Danny!" we both call as we run. The road is dirt, rocky and rutted, and long shadows stretch across it. The sun is setting behind the trees, and it will be dark soon. "Danny!"

We are halfway down the road, when Jen starts to slow down. She's panting and holding her side. "Why didn't he just come home?"

"Danny!" I call. I whirl, suddenly angry. "Why didn't you just get him like you were supposed to?"

She ignores me for the moment. "I can't believe the bus driver would just let him out without one of us there."

That stops me. "Maybe they left a message."

She's bent over with her hands on her knees, breathing hard. "Let me go back and check. You keep looking," Jen says, before turning and jogging back toward the house, holding her side.

I run another hundred yards down the road, calling Danny's name. With each step, I am getting more and more scared for Danny, but when I run across a brown pile of cloth, my heart jumps into my throat. I fall to my knees in the dirt beside it and pick it up.

It's Danny's jacket, and I gasp with the sudden searing pain running through my chest. I clutch the jacket to me, whispering, "Danny." Above me the sky is getting darker and darker. I stand up and yell his name, louder than I have ever yelled in my life, so that it echoes back to me. There is no sound, other than the slight whispering of leaves rubbing together in the mild breeze. _God, please, whatever You want, just have him be safe, have him show up._

I'm running further down the road, when I see the path that branches off toward what used to be my grandfather's house. Remembering how interested Danny was in it, I veer off down the path, the branches of the bushes reaching out to tear at me. Calling Danny's name, whipping through the woods, I burst into the clearing to where the ruins are. But it is quiet and still, silent as a grave.

Danny is missing. Why didn't he come home? His jacket was on our road; he must have been on his way.

Unless something or someone stopped him.

* * *

Thanks for sticking with me.


	9. Chapter 9 Where I Attack

_A/N _My grateful thanks to the lovelies helping me with this story: MKatyCee, bookjunkie and tydestra, and especially Heather and Mac.

* * *

_Great courage is required to stare down a coven of vampires. –_From _The __Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

(*)(*)(*)

_Danny is missing. _My stomach churns violently every time the thought hits me. My sweet, child-like, younger brother is lost somewhere out there. I feel like puking when I think of him alone, scared and lost out in the woods. Danny is missing, and nothing in my world will be the same until we find him.

From the bus stop to our house is not that far−it's easily walked in twenty minutes. I've combed the whole road looking for Danny. I found his jacket, but there's no other trace of him. It's like he's just vanished. It's getting darker, and I can see the headlights of Jen's car as she drives up. She stops across from me, and my reflection in the car window disappears as the passenger window rolls down. It squeals as it's lowered, like nails on a chalkboard.

"Get in," she says hoarsely, reaching over to unlock the door. "We'll check the highway."

The overhead light comes on as I get in the car, and I can see her eyes are red. She's been crying, and I feel like I'm going to start crying, too. I just want my brother to come home.

"Was there anything on the machine?" I ask, hoping the bus company called or somebody saw him and knew to call us.

Jen sniffs. "I called them. They had a new driver on the route today. Danny told him he always got off here, and the guy let him go."

"Jesus," I say in disgust. Yes, Danny comes off as fairly independent, but ask him a few simple questions and you'd realize he's just a kid. I'm hoping he just wandered a bit down the highway, because any other answer is unthinkable. My mind shies away from speculating; it's just too frightening.

We come to 101. The black top stretches quietly either way. "Which way first?" Jen asks. We both look left and then right, then left again. "Right," we both say together. It takes us toward town, and I think Danny's more likely to head that way.

We travel for a few miles that way before we turn around and go a few miles in the other direction, searching the side of the road for a lone figure walking. My heart almost stops when I see a man by the side of the road, but it's just some old geezer walking his dog. I don't think Danny would travel that far, even if he is fairly strong-he doesn't have that much stamina. It's now getting totally dark, and the temperature is dropping.

We're way south of where we live when I tell Jen, "Turn around. He's not here. Mom should be home by now. We have to go tell her."

"Oh, God, I can't believe this is happening," Jen says, starting to tear up. "Why didn't you have your fucking phone?" she asks bitterly.

"Why did you assume I'd get the message?" I spit back at her. She's so wrapped up in her friends. If anything happens to Danny, I will never forgive her.

I don't want to think about anything happening to Danny. I can't even _think_ about anything happening to Danny without tearing up, and I've got to keep it together. Yes, he's a pain in the ass sometimes, but he's a little brother- that's like his job description. But his joy and love is purer than anything I've known. When Danny loves you, he does so without any doubts or reservations-he loves you completely, unashamedly, nothing held back, with his whole heart. It's humbling, because there's no way anyone could deserve that kind of devotion.

We better find him quick. He is out there like a lamb among lions.

We pull into the driveway to our house, and Mom's car is already there. Mom greets us at the front door. She catches sight of our faces as we walk up the steps. Her hand goes to her throat. "Where is everybody?" she asks.

Jen bursts out crying in reply.

From there, things get totally surreal. Dad comes home. The cops are called. Mom and Jen go out searching again while Dad and I wait for the cops to show. Deputy Mark Curran turns up to take the particulars, asking a bunch of seemingly irrelevant questions. It's like watching a bad crime show on TV, except the horror doesn't end when the hour is over. It just keeps going on and on.

More cops come tramping in and out: big men with heavy boots and hats, their waists thick with utility belts. The house shivers with tiny tremors as they stomp from room to room. Jen is on the sofa crying. She and Mom have already had one scream fest until Dad stepped in. Aunt Jess and Uncle Dave show up and take Mom into the bedroom. She is a total mess, incoherent with fear and grief.

The Newtons bring over a tray of cold cuts, and it sits untouched on the table for hours until somebody tells the cops to help themselves, who then devour it like sharks. They fill up the dining room to bursting. Mike sits with me for a while, but it's an awkward silence; he doesn't know what to say, and I don't know what to tell him. How can I tell him how every cell in my body is thirsting for Danny? There's a huge hole in my stomach, and it's physically painful. I cross my arms over myself, pressing against my belly, trying to make the pain go away.

The adults finally chase me upstairs to go to bed, but I know sleep is miles away. On my dresser is the picture Danny had drawn me of the vampire queen. My fingers trace over the black crayon outlines on the paper, and the tears build behind my eyes. I don't really know how to pray, but I'm willing to try. _Please, God, please, please._

I lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I listen as downstairs gradually empties out, and the night settles into an uneasy, anticipatory silence. The wind is up tonight, and the house is making tiny creaks and groans like it's in pain. My thoughts go round and round in unending circles, and in the unforgiving darkness, I finally allow myself the thoughts that I would not face earlier. Despite the unbelief of everyone around me, I know there are nightmares in these woods. I try to push the thoughts away, but they just comes back stronger. _Vampires._ I flip over to my side. Outside, the moon is chasing shadows across my window. _Werewolves_. Every encounter, all the weird things I have seen and experienced in the last few weeks come rushing back at me. _The vampires I saw with Solomon-they've been in the woods all week._ I shake my head-why would they take Danny? _Why not Danny? He's warm-blooded like anyone else._ There's no proof that they took him. _Isn't that almost proof in itself? How could he just totally disappear?_

I bolt upright in bed. I know what I have to do.

The house is dark and quiet. I creep downstairs and past the den where the TV is on. I sneak by, and I can see my father asleep in his chair, twitching. Even in sleep, he looks worried and tired. Silently, I enter my parents' bedroom. My mom is on the bed asleep but thrashing and murmuring uneasily. On the near wall, suspended on parallel pegs is the samurai sword. The scabbard is a beautiful, graceful arc, black lacquer, honorably scratched and scuffed with age. The handle of the katana is over a foot long by itself, wrapped in suede strips and battle-ready. It was used by generations of my family to best their enemies. I bow my head in a silent prayer that my ancestors smile on me now.

With both hands, silently and reverently, I lift it from its pegs, careful not to let its straps catch. I leave the house without a sound, and sling the sword over my back. The strap crosses my chest like a bandolier and behind my back, the handle rises higher than my head. I am armed.

I grab my ten-speed bike from the side of the house and silently wheel it down the driveway for a while before mounting it and beginning the ride to north Forks. I am going to beard the lion in its den.

I know it's foolish for me to try to face the coven down. I know I'm risking my life by going to call them out. God knows what they'll do to me. But I have run out of time. There is no one I can persuade to believe me, and if I'm going to get Danny back alive, it has to be _now_, before they have drained him dry.

The streets are mostly deserted, and I pass in and out of the pools of light of the infrequent streetlamps. The night is quiet, except for the peepers in the woods and the whirring of my bike tires on the road. I catch the smell of wood smoke every so often. _Good, let the woods burn and chase all the werewolves and vampires out of them_. As I speed along the roads, I raise my sleeve to wipe my face every so often. I'm scared, I admit, scared for myself, scared for Danny. I'm going to face down the Cullens and demand my brother back.

I head down the Cullens' dirt driveway and come to the yard of the house. The lights are blazing out of nearly every window despite it being nearly four in the morning. I drop the bike to the ground and face the house. I pull the sword and strap over my head and hold the scabbard in my hands. It makes a lethal-sounding _snick _as I pull the blade free. Light runs along the razor edge of the sword, dancing across the steel like a living thing. The blade is gleaming and deadly. My hands are shaking, but I raise the sword over my head and assume the classic wide-legged samurai stance.

"Cullens!" It barely comes out; a mouse could have yelled louder. I take a few deep breaths, remembering Danny's picture is in my pocket. It burns, giving me courage. I can see his face, smiling like when he gave it to me.

"Cullens!" I yell. "Vampires! I demand the return of my brother!"

There is no movement in the house. I haven't come all this way in the dark to be ignored. It makes me angry, and the fear bleeds into fierce determination. I bend down and grab a fist-sized rock. I throw it against the house, and it sails through the porch to hit the wooden door with a solid _thunk._

I resume my stance. "Come on, you bloodsuckers! Come out and fight me! I want my brother!" I demand desperately.

I can see figures stirring inside the house. Alice is first out the door, and she comes to stand on the porch, holding onto a column. Jasper is right behind her, his sharp eyes searching behind me, looking for allies. There are none. It's just me−one small, desperate man−but I am willing to fight to the death, if that's what it takes.

Rose and Emmett are next, looking curiously at me. "Eric?" Rosalie calls curiously across the yard. From behind, Emmett wraps an arm protectively around her shoulders. Dr. Cullen and Mrs. Cullen are last. They emerge from the door and stand at the top of the stairs, as still as statues. The porch light behind them throws their faces into darkness, but I can just imagine their strange, feral eyes looking at me.

This is it. I have roused the sleeping dragon.

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Sorry for the cliffie! Another chapter will be up next Sunday.


	10. Chapter 10 Where Allies Are Gained

_A/N Just a few more chapters. Please leave me some love at the end._

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_Vampires camouflage themselves to pass within human society. But it is, indeed, just camouflage. –_From _The __Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

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I must have balls of titanium. Six vampires are looking at me, wondering why I have shown up on their doorstep in the middle of the night with demands for my brother's return. They're poised on the steps to their house like a living tableau, absolutely motionless. The porch light behind them throws shadows across their faces.

"My brother!" I yell. "Where's my brother?" The samurai sword held over my head in attack position trembles slightly.

Emmett snorts in disbelief. "How the hell would we know where-"

A quick hand movement from Dr. Cullen shuts him off. "Eric." His voice is calm and soothing. "You remember me, don't you, Eric? From the hospital. I'm Dr. Cullen." Slowly, he descends the stairs.

"I know who you are," I say, gritting my teeth and moving back a step. "More important−I know w_hat _you are."

That stops him. He glances behind him at the other family members.

"Vampires," I hiss at them. There. I said it out loud. They don't react at all. They just stand there−so incredibly still, it's as if somebody made cheesy cardboard cutouts of them, like they were movie stars. _Get your picture taken with the Cullens_. The only sound is the peepers out in the woods.

"Shit," Emmett swears, breaking the silence and shaking his head. "If we have to move, I swear I am _not_ going to high school again."

"Emmett, hush," Mrs. Cullen murmurs in warning.

"You think we're vampires?" Dr. Cullen asks.

"Not think. _Know_." The sword catches the light from the porch, flashing on the blade still held above my head. I hadn't realized how heavy the sword is.

"And with whom have you shared this theory?" he asks.

I'm not the best at thinking on my feet, but even I can see the advantage of a lie here. "A lot of people," I say defensively. _God, that sounds lame,_ Ithink. I have to stop my eyes from rolling over my own behavior_._

"He's lying," Jasper leans forward to murmur to Dr. Cullen.

_Thank you, Jasper_. That sends a pang of fear through me. They know I'm out here totally by myself. They could drink me, toss my corpse in the woods, and no one would ever know.

"He's scared and desperate," Jasper adds, looking at me like I'm an éclair in a bakery display case.

"That's right, I am!" I yell nervously. "So don't try anything funny, any mind tricks or anything, because I'll know it. I just want my brother, and then we'll go."

"What's happened to your brother?" Rosalie asks from the top step of the porch.

I grit my teeth and wag the sword once. No one seems real impressed that I have a sword. So far they've just ignored it. _Way to make a guy feel significant_. "That's what I'm here to find out."

Rosalie steps daintily down the front steps and slides past Dr. Cullen to the front of the group. Emmett starts to follow her, but she glances back at him and he stops. "Danny is missing?"

"He never came home after school."

"How old is he?" she asks.

"He's twelve, but, he's…you know, he's got Down's."

"I remember," she says before she turns to Alice. "Can you see him?"

"I'm right here!" I yell. _What the fuck is wrong with these people?_

Rosalie smiles, and it creates these beautiful, girlish dimples on her face. "Alice has the gift of precognition. Perhaps she can tell us where they'll find Danny."

Of course, more psychic vampire powers. Next, they'll be fucking flying.

"Rose. What are you doing?" Jasper asks like he thinks she's crazy.

"His brother is missing. He's a child−we have to help him." She says this with absolute certainty. Suddenly, I realize I may have an ally in this group. It's a feeling I want to cling to. I have felt alone with too many secrets for too long.

"You're putting Eric in danger," Emmett says from behind her. "He can't know…"

"He already knows," she says, looking at me with those wide, expressive eyes. I could get lost in those eyes for years; when she turns them on me, it leaves me speechless. Maybe she's just yanking my chain, but damn it, if she's holding it, go ahead. I wonder if she would ever want to be rescued from this coven. Maybe she'd only have to suck _a little_ of my blood.

"She's right," Mrs. Cullen says. "We can't turn him away. Do you see anything?" she asks Alice.

There's a pause as Alice stares off into the distance. "It's dark and hot. The walls are irregular, like rock. He 's watching. The fire is getting closer."

"Rock walls? Like a cave?" Emmett asks.

"It could be." She shakes herself and then speaks to Dr. Cullen, who is looking up at her. "He needs to be found soon." I'm not even sure what she means, but the catch in her voice sends a chill down my spine.

"What does that mean?" I'm confused, and they're not making a whole lot of sense. My arms are hurting from holding the sword up.

Dr. Cullen takes a step forward. "Danny's not here, Eric. We don't have-."

"Don't lie to me! I've seen you in the woods. You and the others."

There's a pause. I can see confusion on their faces. "The others?" Rosalie asks finally.

"The other vampires!" I yell. _God, what do I have to do to make myself understood? _

"I think he means the nomads," Jasper mutters.

"You ran across the blonde man and the redheaded woman?" Emmett asks. I nod. "And you came out alive?" he asks with a grin. "I'm impressed."

I am pushed beyond patience. "I'm so fucking glad!" I yell. "Where the hell is my brother?"

Dr. Cullen takes another step forward. "Eric." He waits until he's sure he has my attention. His eyes burn with sincerity. "Put the sword down. Danny's not here. But we'll help you find him."

The sword in my hand wavers a bit. "No…"

"Eric," he says. "Do you consider yourself prejudiced?"

"What?" He has totally lost me.

"Do you believe black men are criminals? That Mexicans can't learn? That Asian women are dragon ladies?"

"Huh? No, of course, not," I'm still trying to figure out where he's going with this. I've got a sword raised in my hands, talking about social politics with a vampire at four in the morning. The feeling of surrealness comes rushing back at me like a freight train. My shoulders, my arms and back are starting to tremble with the effort of holding the katana up. Next time I have a long-winded conversation with vampires, I'm bringing a gun.

"We've lived in Forks for three years now. Have you ever seen any suspicious deaths? Drained corpses?"

I don't reply; my mind is too busy doing circles, but inside I know the answer is negative_._

"I set your sister's arm when she was in that car accident. My wife volunteers at Danny's school. I'm asking you to trust your experience with us and not your pre-conceptions."

"My pre-conceptions? But… you're vampires." I'm trying to understand, trying to make some sense of what he's saying, but it's like I'm underwater. It's all happening in a liquid-y blur.

"And yet you are safe."

"Am I?" I ask. "Am I really?" I search their expressions. Sincerity shines out of Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's faces as they nod. Rosalie just shines, period, and even Emmett is smiling and nodding encouraging. Alice nods enthusiastically; Jasper and I look at each other−something dangerously close to a smirk crosses his face, but then he just shrugs, like 'hey, nothing personal.'

Dr. Cullen senses my wavering. "Are you so sure you can't trust us?" he asks.

I don't know what to believe any more. I'm tired and exhausted, and I just want Danny to come home. "Put the sword down," Rosalie says in that voice that's like angels singing. "We'll help you find Danny."

She's within sword reach. I could lop off her head if I swung right. But she looks at me with those beautiful, expressive eyes, and I know I could never hurt her. That somehow I have to trust her, trust them. I let the sword tip drop to the ground, while my shoulders pulse with relief. I just hope someone stops me if I wind up doing a Renfield imitation.

"If he's not here…" I say, staring at the ground and feeling my throat get thick with tears again. "Then where is he?"

They all step forward and surround me. "You said he didn't come home from school?" Dr. Cullen asks.

"No, the bus company said they left him off at our road."

"Do you know of any caves that Danny might have gone to? I keep seeing him in a cave," Alice says.

"He's never been to−" I stop. I remember when I took him down to see Grandpa's old place, he wanted to go see the caves at Deer Ridge.

"What is it?" Rosalie asks.

"Deer Ridge," I whisper.

"That's in southeast Forks, isn't it?"

I nod. "By the park boundary."

"The fire's not far from there."

I pick the scabbard up off the ground and sheath the sword. "I-I have to go," I say slipping my head through the strap of the sword. "I think I know where he is."

"Wait," Dr. Cullen says. "We'll take you. It will be faster." He turns to Jasper. "Please, the sat phone. And in the garage, the fire blanket."

Mrs. Cullen says, "Maybe Eric should stay here." She puts a hand on my arm. "For your own safety. You don't have the−"

"No way," I say flatly. "If you think I'm letting you go without me, you are sadly mistaken."

She looks at me, her face filled with concern. She turns to Dr. Cullen. "It could be dangerous."

"You need me," I argue. "He won't go with you. It has to be me." I don't know if that's true, but they're not going without me. It couldn't be any more dangerous than facing down a fucking squad of vampires. I feel like I've cheated death once, everything from here on in is gravy.

Alice speaks up. "He needs to be there."

Well, her word carries some kind of weight with them, because the subject of me staying behind is dropped. I realize then that we're short a Cullen. "Where's Edward?"

"He's in Phoenix with Bella. She should be able to travel in a few days."

"I'd heard that she got hurt."

"Yes. Well, not everyone escaped unscathed from the nomads."

That's an interesting reply, but I don't have time to think about it because Jasper comes back and Dr. Cullen turns to Mrs. Cullen. "You and Jasper follow us in the car. Take mine−my bag is in it."

He turns to me. "We'll need to carry you."

"Carry me? Where?"

"Over to Deer Ridge. We'll get there faster if we run."

"You can run faster than you can drive?" What am I saying? _Of course_, they can. I guess those pictures I took of Edward in the parking lot were right after all.

"Oh, yeah," Jasper says with a grin. Involuntarily, I shrink away from him; of them all, he's the one I could trust least. There is just something… homicidal about him. His eyes drop to the ground, and his mouth tightens like he's trying to stop from smiling.

Emmett steps up to me, his arms wide. "I'll carry you, little buddy." Despite the wide grin and the reference to an ancient TV show, he's asking me to put my life in the arms of a vampire. My face must show my skepticism.

Rosalie comes up and lays a hand on me. "This is the best way, Eric. We'll get to Danny the fastest." God, she is so beautiful. Her face could launch a thousand−a million ships. Helpless to do nothing but trust her, I stare into her eyes and slowly nod. _Maybe when this through, I should ask her on a date or something_. I wonder if she prefers the slight, heroic type over a muscle-bound−

Before I can say or think another word in protest, Emmett grabs my arm and slings me behind him like a backpack. He handles me like I weigh nothing at all. "One arm around my neck and the other here." He puts my arm under his and then places my hands together. "Lock your fingers." He grabs my legs and looks over his shoulder at me. "All set?"

I nod because I am out of things to say, and we head for the tree line. The feeling of unrealness keeps getting stronger; I mean, I couldn't make this shit up. I'm riding the back of a vampire to go rescue my brother. Pressed against Emmett this way with my legs around him, it feels strangely sexual. I pray to God and all that is holy that I don't get a woodie. All this adrenaline in my system is making me very edgy. Behind us, I can see Esme and Jasper waving goodbye and then getting into Carlisle's Mercedes.

Emmett is hard, like hard all over. It's like holding onto a statue; there's no give, no fleshiness to him. Carlisle is leading the way, followed by the two of us, then Alice and Rose in the rear. I hope my ass isn't hanging out my pants. We're gaining speed as we start to weave in and out of the trees, and yet Emmett's movements are so smooth, I'm not bounced around at all. I'm extremely grateful for that; I don't need the extra stimulation. The wind starts to whip my hair around.

Emmett turns his head over his shoulder to speak to me. It affects his running not in the least. "Hey, man. About the other day in school. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just fucking with ya."

"No, it's okay," I say. What else am I going to say? Talk about feeling awkward-I'm on the guy's back and I'm going to hold a grudge? Maybe I should add, _Oh and by the way, I jerk off to fantasies about your vamp girlfriend every night. _

The night is inky black, and the few glimpses I catch of the moon between the trees show it's covered in haze. The smell of smoke is getting stronger. The trees start to blur as we go faster and faster. In the darkness, I can't recognize any of the landscape. It's like riding a motorcycle without a helmet, the wind snatches your breath away and my bangs whip violently.

"We should head back to the road and then south," I say above the increasing wind.

"This way is faster," he says. The forest is dark and eerie, and in no time, I have no idea where we are. "So you ran into James and Victoria, huh?"

He sees my look of incomprehension. "The other vampires. They were around the week before last?"

"Yeah." Is he making small talk with me? This is just too bizarre, but I'm just along for the ride, so whatever. "We were over by Three Corners. The redhead-she was…intense."

Emmett throws back his head and laughs. "Yes, for sure." We cross a field, and I realize how fast we are going. The vampires continue to hold formation, with Carlisle up front and the girls behind us, even though we are virtually flying. They're so incredibly quiet, there's no heavy footfalls, no gasping for breath, nothing but the gentle brush of grasses and bushes.

"We're not like them, you know," Emmett says.

"Not like them?"

"The nomads. We don't use humans for food."

"Uh, good to know…" I don't know what to think about that, and I have no time to consider it because I realize we're by my grandfather's old house ruins. "Wait! This is where he would have gone."

The five of us stop, and I slide off Emmett's back, but my legs are wobbly and I land flat on my ass. I bounce right up, pretending it never happened. "This way. I'm almost positive," I yell, running down the path that leads away from the ruins and toward Deer Ridge. In the dark, I barely avoid tripping over the uneven trail. I know I'm right when I almost stumble across a light blue backpack. "This is his!" The sight of it sends a pang of fear through me again. God, he is out here alone and in the dark. _Danny…_

Dr. Cullen takes it from my hand and sniffs it. He passes it to the others who do the same thing. "How's it look, Alice?" he asks.

"Too close to call," she says in a whisper.

"Let's go," he says and virtually disappears down the path. Emmett slings me back across his back so fast, we're running before I realize I have to hang on again.

We're flying down the path, going so fast, I have to squint to protect my eyes. Above the tree line, the feeble moon hides behind a few straggling clouds. But it's the orange-ish glow in the sky that sets my heart racing.

"Looks like the fire's ahead," Emmett murmurs.

I've seen vampires run incredibly fast, they catch bullets, and obviously considered my sword no threat. "You guys are like, impervious to that, too?" Vampires are seeming a lot like superheroes in their invulnerability.

"No," he answers ruefully. "It's one of the few things that can hurt us. We tend to be flammable."

The colors of a fire on the ground are reflected in the clouds above, and it's strongest right where we're headed. The two of us are quiet as we keep running.


	11. Chapter 11 Where We Make A Run For It

_A/N I am fail again on some of my reviews. Please excuse, I was writing furiously for thr "30 Days of Emmett" lalapalooza going on. Check it out if ou haven't already: .net/s/6476118/15/_

Thank you to my wonderful readers and reviewers, and to everyone who can see Eric as more than that annoying kid who goes "La Push, baby. It's La Push."

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_Vampires have astounding strength, speed, and many other abilities. However, the one thing they universally fear is fire. – _From _The __Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

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The smell of smoke gets stronger and stronger. I can hear the wind making the treetops rustle, and in the background there's a dull roar. It's a continuous, drawn out groan carried on the wind like the moaning of an impossibly hungry beast. We're traveling in the dark, but in a break in the trees, I can see the waning moon through a blanket of brown-red haze.

We come to a fork in the path; left takes you to the Hoh River, right to Deer Ridge. Carlisle stops, and the rest of us come to a halt behind him. He squats on the ground, examining it like an Indian tracker. The leaves crinkle under his feet, and I realize it's been weeks since we've seen a substantial rainfall.

From Emmett's back, I speak up. This is such a crazy and weird mode of transportation, and I'm trying to fight the feelings of being a little kid carried like we were playing Chicken Fight. "Deer Ridge is to the right."

"I didn't realize the fire was so close," Emmett says. At least _he's_ nonchalant about the whole experience. "I know they've been fighting it up by the Calawah, but I wonder if they know how far west it's gotten."

Carlisle looks up. "He's headed toward the park."

Alice comes up from behind and puts a hand on me. She's as cold as Emmett. Of _course, because they're dead_, a small voice inside me exclaims. Mentally, I beat the voice back with a stick. _I'll deal with you later._

Alice smiles apologetically. "Excuse me−it gets clearer if I can touch someone he's linked to." She puts her head down, concentrating, her hand resting lightly on my arm. I am desperately hoping the trust that they all have in her abilities is not misplaced. "We have to go now," Alice says.

"Lead," Carlisle says, stepping aside so that Alice is in front. We run further along the path. Every now and then, Alice pauses, her head down and focusing. I feel like the Timmy to her Lassie._ Find him, girl, find him._

With each step, it becomes clearer we're headed into a forest fire. The wind is getting stronger, and the crackling of the fire intensifies. I can hear snapping and popping as if someone is stomping on piles of dry twigs. It's starting to get warmer, but underneath me, Emmett is the same slightly chilled temperature. We climb a steep slope, and behind me in the east, there's an orange glow. On the next ridge I can see patches of fire on the ground, and as I watch, fire races up the side of a scrub pine, and the top of it bursts into flame like it's a giant match head. The nearby trees sway in the wind as the air rushes in to feed the flames.

"Jesus…" I say under my breath. This is definitely not for the faint of heart.

We're at the crest of a ridge, and in the dim moonlight, there are visible patches of rock where the bare bones of this hill poke their way through the bushes and grasses. Occasional trees litter the area, along with various boulders. It reminds me of my room when I haven't cleaned it up in a while-that kind of random chaos. I don't know these formations; this is an area I've never explored.

"He's around here," Alice says. "Try calling for him."

I slide off Emmett's back. This time he keeps a hand on my arm so I don't fall on my ass as my sneakers hit the ground. "Danny!" I call, taking in a breath if the acrid air. "Danny!" I lean over my knees, coughing; the smell of smoke is getting thick and gagging.

"Again," Rosalie orders. The others stand still as statues, listening to the night.

I look around the hill we're on. The rocks are silent and unforgiving, while the bushes rustle in the breeze. The fire sounds are getting closer. "Danny! It's me, Eric! Danny, where are you?"

Rosalie starts running over the crest of the hill, and the rest of us follow her. On this side of the hill we can see the fire in the dell below, crawling its way up the hillside toward us like an angry animal. Rosalie ducks behind a large bush to an outcropping of stone. I push my way through Emmett and Dr. Cullen to where Rosalie crouches besides several boulders against a rock ledge. There is an opening as tall as my knee.

I catch Rosalie's eyes as I crouch at the mouth of a small cave. She nods slightly. The opening is small and dark. "Danny?" I yell into the dark. "Are you in there?"

"Eric?" his voice asks meekly. My eyes adjust to the night, and I can just barely make out a pale face several yards in. It's not so much a cave as it is more like a tunnel.

"Oh, Danny!" Relief washes through me. I want to hug him; I want to yell at him for making me worry, I want to kiss him and sniff him all over like a mother dog will with a puppy that's wandered away from the den. "Are you okay? Come on out."

"I-I can't," he says.

"It's okay," I say. "I have some friends here. We need you to come out."

"My foot's stuck."

"What's it stuck on?" Dr. Cullen asks.

"I don't know," Danny says. "I found the cave, Eric," he adds proudly.

"You certainly did, pal."

Dr. Cullen and I exchange glances. The tunnel is so small that Danny must have had to back in. His foot must have gotten caught on something in the back of the cave. It's too dark for me to tell.

"Let me by. Maybe I can see what he's caught on," Alice says. She gets down and does a belly crawl into the hole until she's a few feet in. I can barely hear her voice, muffled as it is in the small space. "Hey, Danny. I'm Alice. I go to school with your brother."

He replies but I can't make out what he says.

"I'm sure you did," Alice says. "But we really ought to get you out of here. Can you smell the smoke? There's a fire nearby."

She laughs; she actually laughs. "No, we didn't bring any marshmallows. You just sit tight, and we'll get you out of here in just a minute." She slides backwards out of the tunnel and sits up. "It looks like there are some tree roots in the back he's gotten entangled in."

"Maybe if I tunnel in through the side?" Emmett asks.

"We'd have to be careful the rock doesn't collapse in on him," Dr. Cullen says.

Rosalie looks around the boulder by the entrance. "Go in low."

Emmett rolls the boulder away so he has a clear path to the side of the rock outcropping of which this tunnel is part. With his bare hands, he digs his fingers into the solid rock, which squeals and groans under his hands like a living animal. It pops with loud cracks as it comes away in his hands, crumbling like cake. My jaw drops in astonishment. That's got to be granite.

"Eric?" Danny's voice sounds scared. "What's that sound?"

I belly crawl into the tunnel so I can reach out and touch him. "We're digging our way in to free you. It's going to be okay."

"It was dark, and I was alone," he complains. "I'm glad you're here."

I pull our heads close. "Me, too, buddy. Me, too."

In mere seconds, the back of the tunnel gives way, and I can see Emmett's hands. "Try it now," he yells.

"Eric, grab Danny! I'll pull you both," Dr. Cullen orders.

I wrap my arms around Danny, holding onto his upper arms. "Grab my arms with your hands," I tell him.

I feel hands on my ankles, and I'm yanked backward, my belly scraping the ground, pulling Danny with me out of the tunnel.

I can't believe how quickly the fire has approached in the time I was in the tunnel. It has raced up the hill and is now just yards away. It's getting hot enough to break into a sweat and the air feels heated. Dr. Cullen has a stretch of shiny material-it almost looks like aluminum foil-and he wraps Danny quickly in it before pulling Danny to his chest. Emmett slings me onto his back, and we're off running.

"Head for the Sol Duc!" Alice yells. With Rosalie leading, we race down the hill and take a jag to the right, crashing through underbrush. I duck my head behind Emmett's neck, but the branches rip at us. The fire is around us on three sides; the landscape is truly hellish. It seems everywhere we look, the orange flames are eating away at the grass and the trees. I can see the fire racing across the forest floor, devouring bushes and racing up tree trunks.

"Look out!" Alice yells, and Emmett springs into the air with me holding tightly. There is a huge crash behind us, and when I look back, a burning tree has fallen across the path where we just were. Alice appears, leaping over it, soaring in an impossibly high arc into the air to avoid the flames. Gazelles would be envious of her grace.

We keep running and are soon outpacing the fire. We plow through more underbrush and come to a stream bank. The water level is low, indicative of the last couple of weeks of dry weather.

Dr. Cullen slips a phone out of his pocket and hands it to Alice. "Have Esme and Jasper meet us by the 107." He peeks into the blanket he's wrapped Danny up in. "How are you doing, Danny?"

"Are we going home now?" he asks.

Dr. Cullen smiles. "We're on our way. Soon, very soon." Danny wrapped up in that shiny silver blanket looks like a giant hot dog to go. I hope I am the only one to whom that particular thought occurs.

We follow the stream banks, occasionally splashing through the water when we finally make it back to a paved road. Emmett sets me on my feet as we wait for Mrs. Cullen and Jasper to show in the car. Dr. Cullen sets Danny gently on the ground, sitting up. I run over to him and drop to my knees to hug him.

"I'm so glad you're okay," I say, trying to hold back the tears of relief which threaten to choke me.

His smile is wide and trusting. "I knew you'd find me."

"We almost didn't." I grab him by the shoulders. "Don't you ever wander off like that on your own again, you hear me?" I say sternly.

His eyes get big, and his bottom lip starts to tremble. I pull him close.

"You scared me when you didn't come home," I whisper. "I don't ever want to be scared like that again."

"I'm sorry I scared you," he whimpers back, and the two of us just sit hugging for a while. Somebody throws a jacket over my shoulders, and Dr. Cullen inspects us both. Danny's ankle is swollen; he must have twisted it somehow trying to get free, and I have some burn blisters on my back that I don't remember getting. They may have been caused by stray sparks.

"Somebody should call my parents," I say.

"Already done," says Rosalie. "They'll meet you at the hospital."

"The hospital?" I ask.

Dr. Cullen smiles. "We should get you both thoroughly checked out."

Finally a car's high beams come around the corner, and the Mercedes pulls up. I can see now by the light of the headlights that the five of us look like we've been through a fire. Our faces are smudged with soot, and our clothing is ripped from being snagged by bushes. Somehow, it only makes Rosalie look sweeter, more vulnerable. She puts a hand on my arm as I climb into the back seat. "Good job, Eric," she says sweetly, smiling.

I pause, rendered speechless by her, by my gratitude to all of them, but then I have to move as Emmett brings Danny and places him next to me on the car seat. Jasper gets out as Dr. Cullen gets in. "Aren't the rest coming?" I ask as Mrs. Cullen turns the car to head back to Forks.

"They'll make it home on their own," Dr. Cullen says.

Behind us, the four of them wave goodbye, and I raise my hand as they fade from sight.

The sky is lightening as we head along the highway. Dawn is finally making an appearance. Next to me, I can see Danny's eyes growing heavy. It's been a long night.

I barely register what happens at the hospital. Dr. Cullen does most of the explaining, saying how I'd remembered about Deer Ridge, and we went looking immediately for Danny. Luckily we found him and brought him out.

The deputy asks me how I met up with the Cullens in the middle of the night. From across the emergency room, Dr. Cullen's golden eyes watch me as I tell the officer I couldn't sleep and had a hunch the Cullens might be able to help so I rode my bike over their house to ask.

Wrapped up in the blanket as he was, Danny didn't really see anything out of the ordinary. Once again, it seems it's only me that knows the truth of the matter.

They treat my back, x-ray Danny's ankle and put Danny and me in adjacent hospital beds. My family is let in, and when my mother falls into my arms, weeping, I start crying too. Even tough guys like me can lose it when their mom shows up.

My family prods me a bit about what happened, but I'm so tired I can't really make any sense. There are decisions to be made and consequences to be faced, but for now, all I want to do is be next to my brother. I ask the nurses to push our beds closer together so I can touch him as he's sleeping. I fall asleep on my side, watching over Danny in the next bed. 


	12. Chapter 12 Where Oaths Are Taken

_A/N Excuse me for letting review replies get away from me. RL's been kicking my butt. Please know that I live for your reviews. Again, thanks to the ladies without whom this story would not exist- Heather and Mac, Erin, Katy and Tydestra. You all rock my world. This is our last full chapter._

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__Even television has jumped on the bandwagon, as witnessed by this quote from Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, 1997:_

Xander: Yep, vampires are real. A lot of 'em live in Sunnydale. Willow'll fill you in.

Willow: I know it's hard to accept at first.

Oz: Actually, it explains a lot.

_Myths, legends and stories exist for a reason: to open our minds to the possibility of things beyond our awareness, to prepare us for the real truth, and pave the way for understanding that which is beyond the selective tools of science. _From the prologue of _The Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

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My mom lets me off on front of the Cullens. She thinks it's to pick up my bike and drop off the jacket one of the Cullens had draped over me when we were waiting for Mrs. Cullen and Jasper to pick us up. It's been three days since Danny and I came home from the hospital, and I've been doing a lot of thinking during that time.

It's school vacation week, and I've had time on my hands. I've taken all the sketches and storyboards for the "Vampires in Space" game I'd been working on and destroyed them. I couldn't even look at them anymore. They were the efforts of a pitiful, naïve geek, and I couldn't stand to see the misrepresentation and misconceptions. I saved Danny's vampire queen picture, though, and put it in my treasure box.

I know I have broken the natural order of things. There is a price to be paid for knowing the hidden world of the supernatural. I know now the Cullens tried to keep it from me, from all the good people of Forks. But I found them out−found out the whole secret world going on under our noses. At least we were able to keep it from Danny.

What Emmett said to Rosalie keeps running around in my head. _"You're putting Eric in danger. He can't know…" _I can imagine how he'd finish that sentence. _He can't know that vampires are real_. Yet the Cullens claimed I was safe around _them_. That can only mean there's somebody or something out there, then, that has decided that I−that humans−shouldn't know. That humans _can't_ know. It makes perfect sense. What's the best way to hide? Make sure nobody is looking for you.

So, the fact that vampires are real and alive, and at least some of them are living in Forks, is very dangerous knowledge. And I have it.

I don't even know if I'll be going home after this visit with the Cullens, but I had to come, regardless. I don't know the penalties for the laws I've broken or whether the Cullens will be compelled to carry them out. But I do know the only reason my brother is safe at home and complaining about his ankle is because the Cullens broke their own code of silence and even risked their own lives to help me. So I'll gladly give them my gratitude, and whatever else they demand of me, they can have as well. Emmett said they don't use humans for food. I'm hoping they won't decide to make an exception for me.

The Cullens' house is beautiful, lots of glass and varnished wood. I climb the front steps and knock on the imposing wooden door. Mrs. Cullen answers, dressed beautifully as always. She has that sexy Donna Reed housewife thing going on.

"Hello, Eric," she says warmly, opening the door. "Alice said you would be dropping by."

"Hi, Mrs. Cullen," I say. "I've come to…" _Be_ _brought to judgment? Sacrifice myself? _Instead I say, "I brought your jacket," as I thrust it into Mrs. Cullen's hands. The jacket they lent me has the most incredible scent. Kind of like patchouli oil or rose petals but not so heavy; it's the kind of scent that makes you just want to mash it in your face and just inhale, like the smell of Christmas and the first snow of the year and a sunset of a perfect summer day all rolled together.

"Please come in," she says, gracefully taking the jacket from me. I step into their house; inside it's light and airy and modern−not at all what I expected. I really wish I could take pictures of it to show all those Port Angeles Goths. They're all sure vampires hang out in dank dungeons and dark castles. Boy, do they have it wrong. But I suppose there's not much glamour in acting like the vampire version of the Cosby family.

"Well, that was sweet of you to bring it by. Wasn't it?" Mrs. Cullen asks the rest of the family who have almost magically appeared from other parts of the house. Alice and Jasper come in through a hallway, Dr. Cullen appears from a door that looks like it comes from the garage, and Rosalie and Emmett descend a large staircase. She looks like a movie star followed by a bodyguard. Still no Edward−I heard he and Bella were flying in tomorrow.

"Hey, Eric, how are you? How's Danny?" Dr. Cullen asks, smiling like he's glad to see me and wiping his hands on the towel he's carrying.

"He's doing good," I answer, thrusting my hands in my pockets.

"He's very sweet," Dr. Cullen says. "He was still asking for marshmallows when I was carrying him." Everyone kind of titters over that, and even I smile nervously.

"He-he didn't see anything." I feel compelled to reassure them that only I know their secret. "He doesn't know…"

"Ah, yes, that…issue." He frowns at the floor. "What are we going to do about that?" he muses.

"I won't tell anyone. _Really_." I start to make the sign of the cross over my heart, before it occurs to me that such a Christian gesture might be offensive, and I drop my hand awkwardly.

"I wish it was that simple," Dr. Cullen says. "There are laws against humans having that knowledge. Not our laws, but…others'."

_Ha! I knew it. _My throat gets dry. "Please don't kill me."

"No, Eric." Dr. Cullen shakes his head, smiling. "I don't think we need to go that far." Over his shoulder, I'm sure I see Jasper's face fall in disappointment. _Haha._

What other options are there? My stomach does a flip-flop. "Do I have to become a vampire, then?"

Behind Rosalie, Emmett snorts with restrained humor. I glare at him, suddenly offended. _What-I'm not good enough to become a vampire?_

"I certainly hope it won't come to that," Mrs. Cullen says, her hand on her chest.

There's a moment of awkward silence as we all stand there, unsure of what to do. Alice stiffens, her eyes glazing over. Jasper puts a hand under her elbow. "What is it?" he asks her softly.

She shakes off the stupor and takes a step forward. "He has to take the oath."

Dr. Cullen has to turn around to see her. "The oath?" he asks, sounding thoroughly perplexed.

Alice widens her eyes. "You know, the oath."

"Ah, the…oath," Dr. Cullen says, sounding unsure.

"What oath is she talking about?" Emmett murmurs to Rosalie.

"Shut up and go along with it," she mutters back.

"Well, Alice, why don't _you _administer the oath?" Dr. Cullen suggests.

"Yes, please do," Jasper says with a smirk. "I want to see this."

Alice steps up so she's right in front of me. She's just a bit shorter than me, but the air she carries with her makes her seem like an ancient priestess. "Eric Yorkie," she intones, her golden eyes imperious. "You have discovered the secret of our kind. Are you prepared to vow an oath of secrecy that you will never reveal what you know of us?"

I look around at the golden eyes watching me. These people saved my brother's life. I'll go along with anything they ask. I fall to my knees in front of her. "Yes," I answer breathlessly. "I will swear." I can hear Emmett make a strangling sound behind his hands before Rosalie jabs him with an elbow.

"Then come," she says and turns on her heel. As she passes Mrs. Cullen, I'm sure the two of them wink at each other. I scramble to my feet to follow her. If this is what they want from me, then I will do it and swear whatever they want, with all my heart.

She leads me up the staircase, with the others stringing along behind us. At the top of the landing, there is a huge cross hung on the wall. Alice turns when she gets to it and waits as I climb the steps to join her.

_Well, there goes my theory that crosses are their kryptonite. _I doubt they'd hang their nemesis on the wall of their hallway. Mrs. Cullen and Dr. Cullen wipe smiles from their faces as I catch their eyes, but Jasper and Emmett aren't as successful.

Alice crosses her hands in front of her. "This cross is an ancient relic of our kind," she intones like a priestess, "empowered with the spirits of the ancient vampires who have gone before us. Any oath sworn on it will require the strictest obedience from the oath-giver. Should they break their vow, their life and that of their family would be instantly forfeit."

"I understand," I say, nodding, joining her on the stair landing. It's a big cross, and it looks really old.

"I didn't know that," Emmett whispers to Rosalie, earning yet another jab in the stomach.

"Put your hand on it, Eric Yorkie," Alice orders me. The wood is warm and rough-hewn under my hand. This must be powerful magic. _Oh, god, this is so freaking cool. _I feel like I am being ushered into the halls of Narnia or MiddleEarth.

"Do you swear, upon forfeit of your life and those of your family, that you will never tell anyone that we are vampires? That you will not imply, refer or otherwise insinuate we are anything but purely human? And furthermore, will you keep the existence of vampires a secret, guarded with your life, resisting all efforts and temptations to reveal your knowledge?"

"I will," I say solemnly. It may be just my imagination, but some mantle of power, of wisdom settles on my shoulders.

"Then go and walk among men, keeping this secret buried in your heart, never allowing the word _vampire_ to cross your lips when you speak of us." She gestures back down the stairs. The Cullens each pat me on the back as I pass them, descending the stairs like a walk of victory. They're smiling, but Rosalie is serious as I pass her, and her eyes are filled with a tender light. Her touch lingers on me, like perfume that has filled your senses. She is so stunning, it makes me weak in the knees and I stumble down the steps, before someone grabs my collar and saves me from flying headfirst down half the flight of stairs.

"Thanks," I murmur, straightening my shirt before I turn back to glance at them. They're all so different, yet still beautiful in their own way. My heart is filled with affection and gratitude for each of them. I was wrong to call them demons; they're more like angels.

Dr. Cullen ushers me out the front door. "Your bike is stashed here on the porch." He grabs it and handily brings it down the steps for me.

"Thanks," I say. The rest of them have followed us out the door and are standing on the steps, not unlike when I first challenged them for my brother only days ago, but somehow it feels like a lifetime away. I thought then they were monsters; now I know they're indeed just regular people, like all of us, just with different dietary inclinations. And some extra psychic powers. And some super speed and strength. And really good-looking.

Okay, maybe they're nothing like us regular people, but they are certainly the coolest thing to ever hit Forks. I grab the bike's handlebars and glance briefly upward at them. "Do you think I could maybe come by and just hang out sometime?"

"Oh, Eric," Mrs. Cullen says. "As much as I adore you, I don't think that would be appropriate. It would be better if we acted as if this whole episode never happened.".

I never really expected vampires to want to hang with me anyway. "Can I ask one thing then?"

Dr. Cullen nods cautiously.

"Does Bella know?"

The six of them exchange glances. "She does, but it would be best if you never spoke with her about us," Dr. Cullen says. "She and Edward must come to their own decision."

I nod. _Okay, fair enough._

"Does this really work?" Jasper asks skeptically from the top of the steps. "We're just letting him walk?"

"Yes. Yes, it does." Alice descends the stairs. Her eyes hold mine as she comes to stand in front of me. "Remarkably, he never says anything."

My heart swells with gratitude. It is her belief in me that is getting me out of what could have been an impossible situation. "Thank you, Alice," I whisper. "My lips are sealed. I swear it."

"I know," she says, smiling. "You did terrific, Eric. You rescued your brother. Remember that."

"No, you − −all of you − −rescued my brother." I search their smiling faces. "Thank you more than I can say."

Dr. Cullen pats my shoulder. "We'll call it a joint effort, then."

Emmett comes out of the house and down the steps. He has the samurai sword in his hand. "Here you go. Wouldn't want to forget this."

"Oh, thanks." I'm glad to have it. My mother would have killed me if I lost it.

"It's a beautiful weapon," he says, handing it to me.

"Um, thanks." I slip the strap over my head, flushing with embarrassment at the memory of thinking I could use it against them.

Rosalie comes forward and gently kisses me on the cheek. Her lips are cold and firm and yet totally luscious. It's like being kissed by chilled liquid chocolate. She pulls back, yet lets her hand trail down my shoulder. "Goodbye, Eric. You did good. I'm proud of you."

I stand rock still. Rosalie Hale just kissed me. I will never wash my cheek again. I'm so glad Edward isn't here to read my thoughts because they just took a turn towards the unprintable. You know, she might even like me. Emmett's eyebrows draw together. That's another reason I'm glad Edward isn't here to share my thoughts, because Emmett doesn't look like he'd take well to any kind of sharing where Rosalie is concerned.

Dr. Cullen shakes my hand, Mrs. Cullen gives me a peck, and from the back, Jasper just gives me a nod. That's good enough for me.

I throw a leg over my bike and settle into the seat. "Well, thank you. For everything." It's kind of hard to say good-bye. I have this lump in my throat. Next time I see them, I'll have to pretend like none of this happened, like I don't know and can't say what incredibly awesome creatures these people are.

"Good-bye. We'll see you around town, I'm sure. Take care." They chorus their goodbyes.

I start pedaling, but I have to glance back as I hit the first turn of the driveway. I try to fix in my mind forever the picture of them standing on the front lawn, their hands raised in farewell.

I'm halfway down the driveway when suddenly Alice is running beside me. I brake the bike.

"I have a vision for you," she says. "I didn't want to let you go without sharing it."

"Is this something I'm going to want to hear?" I ask. I mean, after all, she could be telling me some apocalyptic thing that's going to change my life for the worse and totally fuck me over, a la _The_ _Twilight Zone_.

"Oh, I think so," she says, laughing.

"Okay, then. What is it?"

"In college, you take a Creative Writing course. You write a fictional book about vampire hunting. It becomes a bestseller, and you become one of the youngest writers to ever hit the top 10 list."

"Really?"

She nods. "It was as clear as a bell."

"Wow, that's pretty cool." I'm in awe. That's going to happen to me?

"Very cool," she agrees. "Bye." She wiggles her fingers. "We'll see you around."And then just as quickly as she arrived, she's gone.

I start pedaling again. I have quite a future in front of me apparently. Even if I don't get to share the secrets about vampires I've discovered, I'll be using the material to write a bestseller in a few years. Very cool.

Besides, there's always the werewolves.

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A/N This is almost the end. We have just an epilogue left. And, yes, we will be going to the prom. :)


	13. Chapter 13 Epilogue

_A/N To Mac, Heather, Erin, TyTy and Katy: You ladies have had my back-now, you have my heart. To my readers and especially some very special reviewers: This one's for you._

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__Ultimately, the monsters we have to live with are the ones of our own making. But then, so are the angels.–_From _The __Diary of a Vampire Hunter_ by Eric Yorkie

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I'm hanging with Mike, George Yee and Donnie Casco in a corner. The prom committee has gotten the place all duded up with crepe paper and balloons, and it looks like at any moment someone is going to dump a bucket of pig's blood on some poor, pathetic loser who then goes ballistic and slays us all. There's even a disco ball, for crying out loud, and in the dark room, it sends shards of light flying around like a snowstorm.

The pants to my tux are way too big around the hips, and if I'm not careful, even with the belt, they may wind up at my ankles. My date, Samantha, is across the room with Lauren, Amy and Jessica, and they're all tittering behind their hands. They're sitting at a table rating all the other girls' dresses like they're the fashion police.

"So Tyler's just gonna show up at Bella's?" George asks incredulously.

"Yeah, what a dumbass," I say. "Like he'd stand a snowball's chance in hell." Anyone with eyes can see that Edward and Bella are in love with each other. I knew it from the beginning.

Suddenly, Mike straightens up. "Holy shit…"

"What?" Donnie and I both turn around to follow his gaze.

Holy shit is right. The Cullens are entering the room. Jasper and Alice arrive first, looking pale and beautiful like catalog models. He's ramrod straight with his blond hair slicked back, wearing a perfectly tailored tux, and she's in a black dress with these geometric cut-outs that show lots of skin. He offers her his elbow as they come down the few steps to the main floor, playing at being courtly. But it's the next couple that's causing a ripple among the crowd, like a force field spreading astonishment to the corners of the room. Rosalie Hale is in a red dress that stops time itself.

It's cut down nearly to her navel in the front, and it hugs her like a second skin down to her knees, where it flares out. She has her hair loose in gentle waves to her shoulder s and is wearing long, red gloves.

Marilyn Monroe, Jessica Rabbit, Madonna−they were all amateurs. Rosalie Hale makes them look like Catholic school girls. She descends the stairs to the main floor, her hips swaying like she's a red snake woman, exuding sex out of every pore. But it's more than just sex; it's feminine beauty, it's sensual elegance, it's the fantasy of the ultimate woman that's behind every teenage wank job. The IQ of every male in the room, and a few girls as well, drops by twenty points as the blood rushes from their brains to parts further south.

She's on Emmett's arm, of course–the Fay Wray to his King Kong. Next to her he just looks coarse and brawny. Well, maybe not. More like a pro football player at a charity event, trying to hide the muscles popping out of his skin with the flimsy material of a tuxedo. He escorts her over to the tables, and when she turns, I can see her dress swoops obscenely low in the back, and the material cups over her perfect ass like a hand, just begging for a real hand to clasp it in one's palm, cradling it gently. Damn.

Double damn.

Our dates have noticed our stupefaction because the girls come up to us, leading us off to the dance floor.

"C'mon, Eric," Samantha whines, grabbing my hand. "I want to dance."

I let her lead me out, while I surreptitiously watch to see how Rosalie is going to manage to sit down in the dress, and although I would never wish bad things on her, some part of me so badly wants to see that dress split down the back and fall off her like a pupae losing its cocoon so her nakedness can just fly gloriously free, dazzling the masses.

"Eric. Eric! I asked you a question," Samantha says as we sway in a small circle to the music.

"Uh, sorry. What?"

"Are you going to the Newtons' after this?" The Newtons are throwing an after-prom party.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Do you think Jeff will be there? Because Heather said if he was going to be there, there's no way she'd go. Every since they had that big fight at the dance, she…" She prattles on, but I've stopped listening. I was all set to go stag when she asked me to take her to the prom. I thought maybe I'd see some action from her, but basically all she's done is order me around. I'm hoping maybe at Newton's she'll loosen up. She's got a hefty rack stuffed into that dress that I'd love to get my hands on. Nothing like Rosalie's, but still…

It isn't too much later I see Edward and Bella enter the room. Her leg is still in a cast, but he carries her like she weighs nothing, assisting her down the steps. She doesn't look exactly happy to be here, but he murmurs in her ear and soon has her smiling. When they look into each other's eyes, there's a connection you can almost see, like a tractor beam between the two of them. I never thought I would see Sullen Cullen give a look that could be described as sweet and tender, but there you go.

Most of the crowd moves to the dance floor for the love song the DJ is playing when I see an unfamiliar face moving among the crowd. It's that Quileute guy, Jacob, whom I'd seen at First Beach, dressed in a shirt and tie. I switch Samantha around so I can watch as he approaches Edward and Bella. Very reluctantly, Edward steps away from Bella, and Jacob starts to shuffle around with Bella in time to the music. Edward stands on the edge of the crowd, fists clenched and watching the two of them dance, his pale face tense and hard.

_Jealous much? It's just a dance, pal, _I think. I maneuver Samantha a little closer to Bella and Jacob, but I can't catch any of their conversation. When the song ends, Edward nearly snatches Bella away from Jacob, who dejectedly leaves the floor like a wounded puppy. I wonder where he's headed. Maybe I should try to pump him for werewolf info, but he disappears before I can stop him.

It's when Edward leaves Bella at a table for a moment and heads to the refreshment table that I find the chance to sidle up to him. He and Bella have both been back at school for a few weeks, but every time I think about trying to talk to him, he walks away or ignores me. But this time, I've got him.

"Hello, Edward," I say.

"Hello, Eric," he answers, as he pours a cup of the red punch.

"Nice party." I pick up the ladle when he's done using it and get myself a cup of punch as well. "Doesn't look like there're any _nomads_ here. Just a few w_olves_, if you get my drift." I am so smooth, forty-year-old scotch can't touch me.

He looks at me like I'm an alien artifact. Okay, forget the scotch. Suddenly I'm embarrassed, and I start blushing right down to my toes. "What are you doing, Yorkie?"

"Huh?"

"Do you really think this is the place to have that kind of conversation?" He looks at me like I'm five years old, and now I feel that way, too. I shouldn't be playing games; this shit is too important.

Still, I have to know that people will be safe. "Edward, I need to ask you a question."

"Well, now's your chance. Spit it out," he murmurs.

_That's right−mindreader. _"Bella. She's going to be alright, yes?"

"I will do everything in my power to insure that," he says, never taking his eyes off her sitting across the room_._

_But, will you _turn _her? Make her one of you? _I think at him.

"Never," he says. "She's…perfect the way she is." Across the floor, Bella picks up her head and looks right at us. Maybe some mind-reading is wearing off on her because the two of them smile at each other like there's this huge secret only the two of them know.

But it's more than just the two of them now.

He nods once. "Excuse me," he says, and then he glides across the floor back to her, returning to her orbit, like a meteor trapped by a gravity well as it passes a planet.

I'm sipping my punch at the edge of the dance floor when I see Rosalie rise from her table and start across the floor. She is the definition of undulation, all curves and movement, as she slowly sashays toward me. She's looking right at me, so I check behind me to see who she's looking for. But there is no one, and her cherry red lips curve in a small smile as she approaches.

"Hello, Eric," she says. My name on her lips almost gets me off by itself; it's a jolt of pure sex that heads from my ears right to my groin.

"H-Hi."

"I've been hoping you would come by and ask me to dance."

She's been hoping I'd ask her to dance? "I-I I'm sorry. I didn't know." I pause. She's been wanting to dance with me? With _me_?

She stands there a moment longer, her gaze on the floor. "So will you?"

"Will I what?" I'm just so taken aback by this whole conversation and that she even came across the whole room just to talk with me, I can't even think.

She smiles widely, and those dimples in her cheeks appear. "Ask me to dance."

"W-Will you dance?"

"Yes, thank you," she says, reaching for my hand and pulling me to the dance floor.

On the floor, she turns to face me. In her heels, she has more than a few inches on me. I'm getting a rather spectacular view of her cleavage. I raise my hands awkwardly; should I use my left or right to lead? Thank heavens she finally grabs my right, and hesitantly I put my left hand on her hip. I start to shuffle my feet. I'm dancing−yes, awkwardly as hell, but still−with Rosalie Hale.

Her shimmering blond hair, parted on the left, has slid over one eye, and with a perfect toss of her head, it falls back into place.

"How's your brother?" she asks.

"Danny? Oh, he's doing great." We shuffle a little more; maybe I should try to have a conversation with her. "He's going to be in the Special Olympics next weekend."

"He's a sweet kid."

"Yeah, he wants to run track−run fast, like Dr. Cullen, he says."

We both chuckle a bit. The music is a slow love song. I stumble a little bit, and, horrified, I realize I've stepped on her toes. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." The most beautiful woman in the world is dancing in my arms, and I've stepped on her toes, the beautiful, sexy toes with the red-painted nails peeping out of the front of her open-toed heels.

She shakes her head. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry." Jesus Christ, I couldn't be any more mortified if I ripped off a huge fart right in front of her. I nearly drop to my knees to make sure those beautiful digits are okay.

"Really, Eric," she insists, lifting my hand so I have to straighten up. "I'm fine. No damage."

"Rosalie," I nearly moan. "Um…" I am blushing so badly, it's like I'm under the blast of a blowtorch.

She raises a perfect hand and presses an elegant finger against my lips. "Shhh. It's okay." She puts my left hand back on her hip, and we start dancing−or maybe it's just swaying−again. "You were terrific, you know."

"Huh?"

"Out in the woods. The rescue."

"Oh." I don't really know what to say to that. I basically was just along for the ride. But she thinks I was terrific?

Her beautiful, tawny eyes capture mine. "You're very brave, Eric Yorkie," she nearly whispers.

I look at her, not sure if she's joking or serious or what. But her face is very serious, and she's looking at me with what I am guessing is admiration. I stop moving, I'm so astonished.

She steps back from me and lets our hands drop. Other people are clapping−the music has stopped.

"Thanks for the dance." She smiles and turns to go back to her table where Emmett is waiting impatiently. I watch that perfect ass sway under that red dress and sigh deeply.

"No, thank _you_," I call to her back.

Her head turns slightly, and as she's walking away, she glances at me over her shoulder. Her lips purse slightly in an air kiss before she turns to sashay back to her table where Emmett is holding out her chair for her.

Okay, it's official. Oh, she wants me. She totally wants me.

**The End**

* * *

Thanks for coming along on this ride with me and Eric. May all _your_ holiday wishes come true.


End file.
